


Worlds Apart Collide Together

by Snowy38



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Horses, M/M, Minor Violence, Posh!Harry, Street!Louis, car theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-08-31 22:43:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8596645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowy38/pseuds/Snowy38
Summary: Louis frowned, shuffling his feet and chewing on his lip. Getting pulled over- getting caught- had been the worst feeling in the world. It was like the game was over suddenly, a game he very much liked playing. And now the rules had changed.He either had to spend ninety days- maybe more- in a prison like the one they'd detained him in for the last two days; where he'd earned a black eye and a split in his eye-brow, or he had to help a few idiots paint some pictures and try and paint one or two of his own.He smirked."I'll take Hippy here," he decided, tilting his head towards Harry.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi People! Don't worry I am busy beavering away with new works!
> 
> This was partly inspired by the graphics by @Youngandmadeof who has been a terrific support to me lately :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy
> 
> Ang

 

Harry Styles the Third sat with his elbows leaned on his knees, upper teeth nibbling his lower lip gently while he contorted his long fingers into twisted shapes in front of him.

 

When his father, Robin, furrowed his brows, Harry pressed his lips together and swallowed heavily.

 

This was it. This was the moment that would decide whether he could finally break free from his imposed upper-class imprisonment; or whether he was destined to be held in these four old walls forever.

 

"Well, Harold..." Robin cleared his throat with a hum Harry cringed at realising he'd picked up in mimic of his father.

 

He also disliked being called Harold. Which his dad knew. And ignored. Another reason for wanting to break out of this mansion.

 

"Yes, dad?" Harry prompted in a soft voice, hoping to sound obedient.

 

Inside, he felt ready to flip the thick oak table his father was stood at in his grandiose study should his next words not be in his favour. Harry had worked for _weeks_ to get his business plan absolutely water-tight with no detail left un-researched. If his father found even the slightest thing to criticise him on, he might actually turn into the The Hulk before his eyes.

 

"It's a strong plan, son," Robin nodded, faintly impressed. "I had no idea you liked the arts so..."

 

Harry smiled wanly. And resisted rolling his eyes. He'd liked the arts since he was born according to his mother, Anne. His first picture aged three had won a pre-school competition and he'd more than 'dabbled' in painting like his father suggested at most of their social events.

 

Harry had waited a long time- _twenty-one years to be precise_ \- to present his business plan to his dad with the sole objective of finally being allowed to move out of the family home where he could slowly build his own life.

 

"I work hard on my paintings in my free time," Harry reminded softly knowing Robin wasn't listening anyway.

 

Harry had spent half of his days learning the family business of acquisitions and he'd never been more bored. The other half of his days he devoted to his hobbies. Along with painting he loved horse-riding and he helped out at a women's charity in town running craft days for them.

 

"So you've bought this building?" Robin checked, picking up the realtor's photograph of the commercial property Harry had selected for his Art Centre.

 

"Mm-hmm," he nodded, pinching his lip between finger and thumb. "The money I saved from selling my paintings and the odd commission paid for the deposit and will cover the interior renovation...I'll take a mortgage for the rest and live upstairs in the self-enclosed flat that comes with it."

 

Robin looked at him then. Harry held his gaze, sitting up straighter.

 

"You could rent the flat out you know...cover the loan and stay at home. It would be more financially viable."

 

Harry nodded.

 

"I could. But I want to be independent. I want to try, at least," he added where he feared his dad might argue and dub him a failure before he'd even begun his new venture.

 

Robin sifted through the papers and laid them on his desk, licking his lips.

 

"Alright then, Harold, have it your way. You can move out as soon as the flat is habitable."

 

Harry bit his lip to curb the victorious smile edging onto his lips; Robin's shrewd gaze checking him over for any such show of ego.

 

"Thank you, dad," Harry lowered his head a bit to show his gratitude.

 

"Get away with you now," Robin grumbled lightly. "I have work to catch up on..."

 

Harry turned and loped out of the room.

 

//

 

"For fuck's sake!" Louis Tomlinson hissed as the flat blade of his weapon slipped off the car-window ledge and veered towards his left hand, glancing off his knuckle and taking a lump of skin with it.

 

He quickly shook his hand out, pressing his lips together to temper any urge to shout obscenities and rolled his eyes skywards praying for a pain-relief miracle.

 

"Fucking _bastard_ ," Louis sucked the blood off the cut, twisting his lips to re-assess the vehicle.

 

It was really such an easy steal. No alarm, wires loose under the steering column giving him perfect access to hot-wire it. He couldn't leave it there, it'd be an insult to.

 

He ignored the blood dribbling down his finger and began over, sliding the metal edge into the security column where a satisfying click signalled the release of the door lock. Louis smiled smugly to himself, a brow raising in reassured confidence.

 

"Come on then, let's have a little ride," he murmured, releasing the door and sliding into the front seat, adjusting the chair to move forward so his feet reached the pedals.

 

He couldn't help being short.

 

He reached under the steering wheel and separated out the wires, picking the two he needed to cut and strip to clash the metal insides together to create a power connection. He then pulled a third wire out, one that would ignite the engine minus the ignition key.

 

A few minutes later with the help of his wire cutters, the two power wires were connected and the third was bare to strike against them. He pumped the accelerator just in case and touched the live wires together, hearing the familiar 'vroom' of the engine coming to life.

 

He cackled to himself happily, pulling on the seatbelt. No sense in killing himself for a joyride.

 

"Come on, _yes_!" He grinned as he pulled out of the abandoned parking lot, accelerating away quickly to avoid being seen.

 

//

 

SIX MONTHS LATER

 

//

 

"Hey, come in, come in..." Harry welcomed his eleven o'clock class into the large art studio come classroom he'd had fitted along with an art gallery, open-plan create-and-chill area behind reception and various little cubby holes with seating and tea and coffee facilities.

 

Several sets of female eyes stared up at him in awe as they shuffled in and he couldn't help his blush. Harry had always liked guys was the thing. His mother had accepted it, his father had pretended it wasn't happening and well...he hadn't found _the one_ yet.

 

But having class after class of adoring female fans was quite something. A new kind of something he wasn't yet used to. He tucked back a bit of his hair into the messy bun he'd pulled it into earlier, slipping his glasses from the top of his head to in front of his eyes. He'd rested them up there to look at something intricate one of his last class members had made.

 

"So," he cleared his throat as everybody settled- all twenty students.

 

His classes were so far phenomenally popular and he was nearly struggling to accommodate the demand. But he reckoned in a few more months that interest would wane and the novelty of something new would wear off.

 

"I hope you've all done your homework?" He asked the class first.

 

Several portfolio carriers were heaved onto the large tables, each lady lifting up their painting that Harry had set a brief for last week. The brief for the week had been 'Home' and there was a good mixture of subject matter on the paintings he walked around to look at, commenting softly to each artist to compliment something in their piece.

 

"What about yours, sir?" Swann called out, a particularly mischievous lady he'd grown quite fond of.

 

"Of course," Harry nodded, having set the bar high for himself by committing to complete the same homework he expected of everyone else.

 

Not only did it make the working relationship smoother, more personal somehow but nobody could cry hypocrite at him and accuse him of asking too much of his students. He only gave them as much as he was willing to do himself.

 

"Here we go," Harry lifted his painting of his favourite chestnut horse, King Louis XIV(The Fourteenth).

 

Apparently everyone in the Styles Household needed to have numbers after their name, not just the prodigal son.

 

The class cooed over his favourite horse while he settled them into today's lesson, teaching them how to use pen and watercolour in a composition.

 

It was at the end of the lesson that his trusty receptionist, Kay, gestured him over to the telephone handset she was wafting around.

 

"Master Styles, there's a Sergeant Cambridge on the telephone," she whispered.

 

Harry's brows rose as he turned towards the desk to lean over the counter.

 

"Have I done something illegal?" He asked.

 

Kay tutted and gave him one of her stern looks to which he smiled warmly, releasing his dimples. She blushed a bit and became flustered.

 

"He wants to talk to you about some kind of community service scheme they want to trial..." She murmured and Harry reached across for the handset to find out what it all meant.

 

"Hi...hello, this is Harry Styles," he greeted with his front pressed to the counter.

 

"Mister _Harold_ Styles _the Third_?" The voice on the other end clarified.

 

Harry rolled his eyes.

 

"Yes. That's me," he added ruefully. One day he'd work up the courage to change his name by deed poll.

 

"We'd like to have a meeting with you sir. About a community service scheme the local borough want to trial. It's something that's been run in other counties and seems very successful. It involves low-risk criminals being encouraged to become involved in community arts," he added. "Gives them a sense of responsibility and ownership of their misdemeanours."

 

"Oh," Harry hummed, grazing his lower lip. "I'm sure I can offer my time to listen to the proposal..." He posed cautiously.

 

"Excellent. We'll be down this afternoon." The Sergeant ended the call abruptly leaving Harry looking at the handset.

 

 _What_ _the_...?

 

//

 

 

There was a person.

 

A small person in a black hoodie and tight jeans and plimsolls, poking around in the art supplies that sat on the side-tables of the master classroom.

 

Harry stood in the doorway and watched with a concerned pout as the person- the _thief_ \- picked up a tube of oil paint with an interested turn-down of his lips, looking either side of himself and before he slid it into his pocket.

 

Clearly he hadn't noticed Harry yet.

 

Harry was about to announce his presence if not for a small part of him that was curious to see what else the thief was going to pocket but an authoritative voice behind him startled both himself and the unknown male in the room.

 

"Mr. Styles," Harry turned towards a blonde-haired Police Officer, her hair in a neat low chignon.

 

"Hi," he smiled. "You must be Officer Hunt?"

 

"Call me Kate," she offered her hand, giving his a firm squeeze.

 

Harry was expecting her visit of course. He'd been told midday though and it was nearer two now. He folded his arms, eyes flicking back towards the hooded thief.  

 

So _this_ was the guy. A teenaged delinquent, apparently. He had been caught stealing cars a few times, had no close family to take ownership of him and prison was, in the Sergeant's words, "a too-harsh reality for the sake of a few hot-wired cars".

 

In Harry's mind, hot-wiring cars was quite a serious business but he wasn't the most worldly man and so he figured maybe his standards were a little different to that of the street-wise police.

 

Still. He genuinely didn't mind enrolling the criminal into his classes in an attempt to teach him the importance of community spirit. Harry didn't know anything about the guy but if he didn't have a proper home or any family members who cared about him then maybe the welcoming spirit of 'Sunshine House' would help.

 

Harry had asked a good lot of questions about how the scheme worked, his liabilities and that of his business and the Sergeant assured he was covered on all aspects, that dangerous criminals weren't given this kind of chance but Harry couldn't help but feel nervous.

 

Because the person standing in his beloved classroom could very easily play him for a fool and Harry would most likely- _in his naiveté_ \- fall for it. When he'd explained his misgivings to the Sergeant he hadn't expected _this_ , quite.

 

This petite, hooded, good-looking _man_ with clean chestnut hair swooping across his forehead in a fringe and bright, clear blue-grey eyes. He'd expected- well, a drugged-up down and out kid if he was frank.

 

"You're not a teenager." Is what he ended up saying to the rather short, brown haired young man.

 

The man- who in all fairness looked about as far from a criminal as Harry had ever imagined a criminal might look bar the hoodie- gave him some kind of sour, narrow-eyed look that made him bite his lip.

 

"I turned twenty yesterday," the guy confirmed warily, eyeing him up and down like he might be contagiously mad.

 

"Right," Harry frowned, then took a breath and put his hand forward. "I'm Harry. This is 'Sunshine House' and-"

 

The guy snickered.

 

"Sunshine House?" He repeated. "What kind of shit name is that?"

 

Harry sucked in a breath.

 

"What's _your_ name?" He asked instead.

 

"Louis," the guy supplied, flicking his blue-grey eyes away to study the view outside the window. Harry couldn't help but wonder if he was looking for something else to steal. He also couldn't help but notice his incredibly thick, long eyelashes.

 

"Oh, I have a horse named Louis!" Harry shared warmly, breaking into a smile.

 

Louis gave him a dark stare.

 

"I've got the same name as your _horse_?" He asked incredulously, adding, " _Fucking rich people_ ," in a mutter under his breath.

 

"King Louis the Fourteenth," Harry added quietly, stretching a bland smile over his lips as he realised that his input wasn't going to help win Louis over.

 

"Great," Louis plastically smiled back. "Perhaps I'll change my name to match?" He added sarcastically.

 

Harry nervously pushed up the sleeves of his billowy lemon-yellow shirt and tugged at the leg of his flared green velvet trousers.

 

"Anyway, the plan is for you to help in two of the classes each week," Harry continued once Kate had told Louis to 'play nice'.

 

"Hm?" Louis arched a brow, tilting his head back and looking at Harry with blank eyes. His chin tucked into his chest a bit like a bored teen on a shopping trip with his mum. The fact his hands were jammed in his pockets didn't help to quench that idea.

 

"You can take part in the class too but if anyone needs help or some supplies then you're going to help out." Harry explained.

 

"So I'm a gopher?" Louis made a face.

 

Harry blinked.

 

"I suppose you are, yes..."

 

"But I have to do this arty-farty stuff too..." He added, whirling his hand around to gesture the entire room which housed completed works from Harry's several classes.

 

Harry cleared his throat, pretending he didn't feel a painful ping in his chest at the barb.

 

"You don't _have_ to," Harry confirmed. "But the Sergeant would prefer if you could take part, too."

 

Louis rolled his eyes and yawned. Harry counted four fillings in his teeth- all silver. Harry had two white ones and he momentarily wondered why he'd never met anyone with silver fillings before. Probably because his father didn't deem them suitable company for him.

 

The fact Robin only deemed pretty, too-thin girls as suitable company for him was beside the point.

 

"So, do we have a deal?" Harry asked.

 

Louis flicked his eyes to Kate.

 

"What happens if I don't do this?" He asked.

 

Officer Hunt arched a brow.

 

"Court hearing...probably a minor-offender charge for auto-theft. Three months in prison, maybe more..." She added, turning down her lips.

 

Louis frowned, shuffling his feet and chewing on his lip. Getting pulled over- getting _caught_ \- had been the worst feeling in the world. It was like the game was over suddenly, a game he very much liked playing. And now the rules had changed.

 

He either had to spend ninety days- _maybe more_ \- in a prison like the one they'd detained him in for the last two days; where he'd earned a black eye and a split in his eye-brow, or he had to help a few idiots paint some pictures and try and paint one or two of his own.

 

He smirked.

 

"I'll take Hippy here," he decided, tilting his head towards Harry.

 

"Hey, I'm not-"

 

"Calm down," Louis pursed his lips with a twinkle in his eye as he met the as yet undefined colour of Harry's gaze.

 

The man was tall, had long, dark, tousled hair and a pair of tortoise-shell glasses that framed those wide eyes. He was quite good-looking with a strong nose, jaw and cheekbones and cute brows that furrowed when his lips pouted.

 

Louis hadn't missed the kissability of those lips, either. He _was_ a red-blooded male after all. Bowed top lip, full red bottom lip. He found his eyes tracing Harry's mouth and delighted in the blush staining Harry's cheeks.

 

He might actually have fun here, he decided.

 

//

 

 

 

Harry hadn't missed the bruise under Louis' eye, or the cut that went across his eye-brow. But he hadn't wanted to ask.

 

In fact, he'd had palpitations when Louis had gone to leave- _with the stolen paint tube still in his pocket_ \- and he'd stopped him and politely asked him for it back.

 

Louis had pulled it out of his pocket and tossed it, clipping the edge of Harry's frames to which Louis had tutted and called him 'Clumsy.'.

 

Harry found himself frowning unhappily as he went upstairs to the flat that night, not expecting company but finding the surprise of his parents on his doorstep not an hour later.

 

"Harold, darling!" Anne opened her arms wide to hug him as soon as he had the door open.

 

"Mum," he greeted carefully, bending to hug her back.

 

He flicked his eyes to the presence behind her.

 

"Dad," he added with a nod.

 

"Let us in then dear, Harold," Robin gestured for the hug to move into the flat.

 

Harry let both his parents pass him before shutting the door.

 

"Are you locking your jeep up in that garage round the back still?" Robin asked as he settled himself on the sofa in the living room.

 

It was a bit lumpy and Harry hadn't gotten around to replacing it yet. The downstairs of his new premises were state-of-the-art while the upstairs looked similar to a second-hand shop.

 

Harry hadn't even known what one of those was until two weeks ago when Swann had insisted on taking him to one, explaining excitedly just what he was missing out on.

 

And Harry had _loved_ it. He hadn't expected to find himself feeling quite so content in the middle of a shop that smelled liked moth-balls sprayed with Fabreze and decorated on every available surface with utter _junk_. For the first time in his life, Harry had felt like he'd found _home_. Which-

 

Considering he'd spent twenty-four years being completely provided for, molly-coddled and dare he admit it, _spoilt_...It had been an awakening that had taken him somewhat by surprise.

 

"Yes, Dad," Harry confirmed of his vehicle's safe status in the lock-up out back.

 

He shared a six-garage run with his neighbouring buildings, various businesses run from them.

 

"Good because I hear there's a vehicle thief on the loose..."

 

Harry choked on his own spittle as he rinsed the tea-pot, the kettle already on to boil.

 

"What?"

 

"Saw it in the paper," Robin nodded. "He's working his way around the area picking out easy targets," he shared.

 

Harry swallowed, biting his lip to curb his smile although there was absolutely nothing funny about stealing cars. Especially not the fact the very thief his dad was worried about was going to be working on his doorstep.

 

"I think I saw something too," he offered nonchalantly. "Mostly cars without alarms and central-locking though..."

 

Robin made a grumbled noise.

 

"Doesn't matter, yours is worth plenty."

 

"I'll get a steering lock just in case," he assured to pacify his father.

 

"So, how's the school going?" His mother asked excitedly as Harry carefully carried a tray with 3 teacups balanced on saucers, each with it's own tea-spoon laid in the saucers along with a tea pot, a small pint of milk and an opened bag of sugar.

 

"Haven't got a jug or sugar-bowl yet," he excused his rudimentary presentation, setting about pouring tea. "And it's going really good," he added to his mum. "I've got more interest than I originally forecast so..."

 

"It'll die off," Robin cut in with a sniff. "Always a surge when something new comes along."

 

Harry nodded slowly with a small smile.

 

"I know. I've-"

 

"Not everything follows the plan, son," Robin spoke over him. "Especially not business."

 

Harry gave his mother a long look.

 

"Robin, let him try it out," Anne intervened gently. "We promised him that much."

 

Robin grunted and noisily sipped his tea.

 

"So...any potential females coming to these classes of yours?" His dad posed.

 

Harry arched a brow.

 

"Since I'm into _guys_ I doubt _any_ of the females are potential," Harry quipped.

 

Robin blinked at him.

 

"Well, you might meet the right girl and-"

 

"And still be gay, Dad," Harry reminded him assertively. Some subjects he was willing to stay quiet on, his sexuality was not one of them.

 

"No need to go shouting it from the rooftops just yet," Robin muttered under his breath.

 

"Darling," Anne squeezed her husband's hand. "He can shout it wherever he likes. You love who you love," she added with a nod towards her son.

 

Harry smiled at her thankfully, his eyes watering in gratitude and something else. In frustration of not being heard.

 

"I haven't found any suitors if that's what you're asking," Harry commented to move the conversation on to something easier. "How's the business?" He asked, knowing that Robin would talk endlessly about his precious company.

 

Harry sipped his tea and pretended to listen.

 

//

 

Louis slipped his hood over his fringed hair and shouldered his rucksack, pulling on his fingerless gloves.

 

His mate, Steve, had just told him he couldn't stay at his anymore because his mum wasn't happy with having Louis in the house now that he had a police warning on his criminal file.

 

Louis had argued with Steve that he'd already scoured the house and there was nothing of value to steal so why would he be a threat? But Steve had told him he had to go and-

 

Well, Louis didn't _have_ anywhere to go, that was the thing.

 

It was dark out, the streetlights racing towards him seeking the company of his body heat but when he passed under them, the light felt sickly yellow and bright like a spotlight on all his life mistakes.

 

Like leaving home at fifteen to avoid a violent step-father. Like leaving school at fifteen because he was 'bored'. Like having to live day to day on someone else's sofa- sometimes even in a burned-out car or worse-luck, under a bridge somewhere, going to sleep praying not to be raped or murdered.

 

The lights were his judgement, harsh and unyielding until he passed into the shadows, a place he felt far safer.

 

He could look for a car, tonight. Just an unlocked one to sleep in, not to steal or ride. He could look for a late-night off-licence to rob. He could walk among the busier areas and slip a wallet or two, earn enough for a meal and a bad B&B.

 

He could do a lot of things but Louis' gut churned with the thought of each and every idea. He hated that he felt bad now for doing these things. Kate had given him a very honest talking-to after the Sergeant on his case had insisted he got help instead of punishment.

 

Only trouble was now he felt obligated He felt like he had a responsibility not to fuck up. And he _wanted_ to... _fuck_ , how much he wanted to just go and scare some little corner-shop owner into giving him cigarettes and alcohol; or feel the excited burn of victory at snatching a wallet un-noticed.

 

It had become his life-blood, somehow, his only way to be noticed or cared about. When he was doing something wrong.

 

But Kate had given him an option. Had told him about homeless shelters and places to call if he was lost. Truth was, Louis didn't want to label himself as 'homeless', it sounded so bleak somehow. No, Louis was much stronger than that, he was resilient.

 

And there might only be one place that he could think of to go but it was better than curling up under a bridge or sharing a bunk with a smelly wino.

 

//

 

Harry liked a giant cup of tea in the morning and two slices of toast.

 

Sometimes he had the toast with poached eggs or baked beans but largely he smothered the bread with butter then marmalade and wandered downstairs to sit on a high-stool in the open-art area behind the reception, soaking up the sun's weak early rays and watching the world start up slowly.

 

He'd captured his hair in a messy bun- _his hair was so long now that it grazed his nipples, he was surprised his Dad hadn't told him to cut it_ \- and slid on his necessary glasses before padding softly into the business area of his building.

 

It always felt weird first thing, eerily quiet and empty. He was careful not to drop crumbs or spill his tea even though he had a cleaner- Mabel- come for an hour a day to keep the place looking professional.

 

Something itched at him as he dragged his sleeping-jacket up his arms where it dived south and he belted the knitted cardigan-style garment while gripping toast between his teeth, his saliva dribbling dangerously down his chin.

 

He slurped it up, shivering a bit as the cool air brushed over his bare legs. He only wore sleep shorts to bed- along with a ratty t-shirt usually- and the bed jacket wasn't very long on him.

 

Still, he frowned a bit as he paused in the foyer, not sure what was irking him.

 

Something made him go towards the entrance door, a wide double-oak design he'd had fitted between the brick walls, a pair of automatic glass doors preceding them. When he unbolted the big doors and slowly pulled one open, he wasn't sure what he'd find.

 

Maybe an animal had gotten inside and that was what made him feel uneasy. Maybe someone was waiting for him to open? He certainly didn't expect to find-

 

_Louis?_

 

He looked so small curled over himself, his rucksack under his folded arms and his chin tucked low, creating a  self-contained shape almost. Harry swallowed. He'd slept like this before.

 

The sound of the door unbolting and opening hadn't stirred him and the sunlight lit up his painfully handsome face. He had stubble that glowed almost red in the sun. He had lightly tanned skin and the most beautiful lashes. He had the most beautiful everything.

 

 _Gosh_.

 

Harry almost jumped back, not sure what this feeling was welling in his chest. He felt confused by it, tricked almost. He knew he liked guys but-

 

 _Actually_ being attracted to one?

 

He swallowed, taking a few slow, deep breaths and reminding himself not to freak out. This was all new to him, this life, this world, these people. That's all it was. Just the newness of everything.

 

 _Of having living, breathing beautiful men so close_.

 

He would have felt that way if any boy was sat there, not just Louis. No, it definitely wasn't just Louis.

 

Harry cleared his throat.

 

"Um...Hello?" He tried cautiously.

 

Louis' nose wrinkled and he let out a soft snort-like sound, his head falling to one side.

 

"Louis...Would um...would you like to come inside?"

 

The way Louis' lips curved into a smile and his head rolled back, Harry thought he was awake and listening, just seeing what Harry would do to try and wake him. But as Louis' head fell against the wall softly, a snore pealed out of his throat.

 

Harry felt his cheeks heat.

 

"Louis for Christ's sake, wake up," Harry snapped, as firmly as he could manage with tea in one hand and cold toast in the other. He nibbled on it as Louis came-to.

 

"Hm?" Louis' eyes opened and blinked slowly, a surprised gasp hitching into his lungs as he scrabbled to get up. "Fuck! _Shit_...fuck," he hissed, twisting to glance at Harry and spinning to scatter out of the hallway only something was stopping him, blocking his escape.

 

He was caught somewhere, he wasn't sure where, but he had to get free, he had to-

 

"Hey, breathe," Harry mused as Louis flailed.

 

Louis froze, swallowing hard. He waited a full five seconds before stepping away from the deep voice, feeling the strap of his rucksack pull him back. He looked over his shoulder, arching a brow at the man behind him whose big hand was circled firmly around his rucksack strap.

 

Louis sighed, dipping his chin, his whole body sagging. Harry must have took that as a sign for surrender because he let go and Louis heard a crunching sound, frowning as he twisted.

 

"Are you...eating toast?" He asked incredulously.

 

Harry arched a brow.

 

"Well, it is breakfast-time."

 

Louis pressed his lips together, his brows furrowing as his stomach gnawed hungrily.

 

"I'm just early," he said then, cheeks flushing a bit. He tugged the hood of his fleece down a bit further. "I was waiting." He added stupidly.

 

Waiting for what? An epiphany?

 

And-

 

 _Wait_ , was the Hippy dude wearing socks? Big, thick grey socks? With pyjama shorts and-what even was that? A _smoking jacket_?

 

Louis' eyes flicked up, towards the frames Harry was wearing over his eyes, towards those indescribable eyes.

 

"Do you fancy some toast?" Harry asked then. "Mine's gone cold..."

 

Louis swallowed. Maybe one slice of bread wouldn't hurt. It wasn't like Harry hadn't offered. And anyway, the guy looked minted. Maybe he had something of value in his apartment that Louis could sneak away without him even missing it.

 

"Have you got jam?" Louis ventured, looking to his plimsolls.

 

"Marmalade," Harry answered as he turned back inside, leaving Louis no choice but to follow him quickly and bolt the door behind him.

 

//

 

"So where do you keep this horse of yours, then?" Louis asked, biting largely into his toast- his second round- and following it up with a slurp of tea.

 

Harry watched him with fascination, not quite used to people who didn't have table manners. At least not the kind his father expected. If Robin caught Harry eating his toast in the studio he'd have had a fit. Harry couldn't help his fond smile at watching Louis bite crumbs across his table and onto the floor, leaning back in his chair to fold his legs.

 

He looked tiny sat there, sliding his hood down to reveal hair that was short at the back and long at the front, sweeping over one eye and his forehead.

 

"Oh he's back at my father's stables," Harry answered when Louis flicked him a look.

 

Louis nodded, licking the corners of his lips and eyeing Harry's plate which had one triangle of toast left on it.

 

"Would you like some more toast?" Harry offered politely.

 

Louis rolled his eyes, his lips pressing together to form a dimple in his cheek of sorts.

 

"Think four slices of bread is already over-stepping the boundaries don't you?"

 

Harry got up and settled another two slices of bread in his toaster.

 

"Refill?" He lifted the tea-pot, coming to the table to top up his giant mug.

 

"S'pose," Louis darted his mug forward carefully, trying not to appear too keen.

 

Harry knew it was impolite to ask questions. So he didn't.

 

"Might you like to ride King Louis one day?" He wondered instead.

 

Louis gave him that look again. Like he'd lost the plot.

 

"Yeah, right..."

 

Harry buttered Louis' toast and brought it to the table. He rooted through the fridge and found a tiny jar of strawberry jam- a tester of some kind. He placed it next to Louis' plate, the marmalade having been finished some while ago.

 

Louis gave Harry a long look while he sat, arching a brow.

 

"We can go and ride the horses if you'd like it," he offered, continuing the thread of their conversation.

 

Louis smirked.

 

"Never ridden a horse before."

 

"Can't steal it quite as easily as a car," Harry inserted and for one second his eyes widened and his mouth opened in belated horror, realising the error of his humour. "I mean-that is-"

 

Louis opened his mouth and laughed loudly, curling up with toast stuck to his little fingers, his laughter spluttering into a chesty cough.

 

"You're funny," Louis pointed at him.

 

Harry offered a lop sided smile.

 

"I'm also running towards being late opening up," he glanced at his wall-clock to confirm the time.

 

Louis arched a brow as Harry stared at him, belatedly realising Harry expected him to leave while he got ready.

 

"Oh!" He jumped up from his seat, grabbing his bag and slinging it onto his shoulder.

 

_Of course the hippy didn't want him hanging around while he got ready. Probably thought he was going to pinch something. After all, that had been his initial plan._

"I'll um...just start tidying up the classroom," Louis murmured as he headed for the door that separated Harry's flat from the downstairs business.

 

Harry's gaze followed him with a concerned frown. As much as he wanted to offer Louis the chance to freshen up, he daren't leave him alone in his flat. And god knew he didn't have time to sit and watch him.

 

//

 

The thing with Louis was that he was somewhat mischievous.

 

Harry frowned in his direction whenever he noticed Louis getting bored in the class and found him either painting ridiculously stupid child-like canvasses - wasting both his paint and his canvas - or trying to squeeze glue into little puddles for people to find by accident.

 

When Harry gently retrieved the glue-bottle from Louis' fingers the second time he had an arched brow and pursed lips.

 

"I'll take that," Harry said softly.

 

He felt like  a head-teacher of sorts, disciplining a rather errant boy. Only Louis wasn't a boy, his thick growth of beard and beautiful eye-lashes contested to that. His roll of eyes and quirk of his lips were a mark of being caught.

 

"Alright, chill, man," Louis mused. "Make love not war and all that..."

 

Harry's long hair was messily half up, half down, the top half pulled back in two wings to meet at the back, twisted and messy in his rush to tame his hair. He shunted his glasses up his nose not dissimilarly to Clark Kent.

 

Louis found himself darting a look into those strangely coloured eyes.

 

"If you want to make love can you do it without my glue, please?" Harry asked.

 

Louis smirked.

 

"I've got something else thick, white and sticky if you like?"

 

Harry heard a gasp over his shoulder and realised Swann had heard the filthy remark. She sat at the back, preferring to let the other women have the bulk of Harry's attention and then she'd stay behind to help him pack up.

 

"Ignore him please," Harry told her. "He's got a strange idea for what's funny..."

 

Louis jumped down from the side-table where he'd been sitting and huffed some air out, eyes scanning the room for nickables.

 

He arched a brow as his eyes landed on a small paper-cutter, a guillotine. His sister had wanted one of those for ages, she'd told him the last time he'd made a call home to talk to her and it broke his heart that his mum and step-dad couldn't afford one.

 

"I'm gonna, um...check everyone has enough paint," Louis smiled stiffly as he drifted away leaving Harry narrowing his eyes to watch.

 

"Swann," he curled behind the younger woman, looking over her painting. The theme was rainbows and hers was- _in words his father might use_ \- one bloody great gaudy mess. But it was beautiful in its boldness and the colours dripped into each other lending it some sadness, some sign of disrepair.

 

"This is really good," Harry smiled at her as he shifted to watch both Louis out of the corner of his eye while still trying to engage with his student.

 

"Rainbows just make you feel so much," Swann sighed dreamily. "I wanted to get that across."

 

"You have," Harry nodded, slipping towards the next easel where Mary was painting in pastels, her design including one side of rain and one side of bright sunshine.

 

"Realistic," Harry commented as he watched Louis slide his paper-guillotine into his denim jacket, buttoning it up once the item was tucked into his side. "I love the pale colours and the fragility."

 

Louis began to saunter across the front of the room, trying to appear nonchalant and failing. Harry wondered how he'd managed to steal cars for so long when he screamed guilty.

 

"Jemma," he called warmly, curling his hand around an older lady's shoulder. "This is just incredible..."

 

Her piece was almost photographic, detailed and sharp.

 

"Thank you, Harry," she simpered with a blush.

 

Louis had both hands back in his jacket pockets, his eyes hitting the ceiling as he rested his bum on Harry's desk. On _his_ desk. With stolen goods in his jacket no less.

 

"Right class, I'd like you to finish up, clean your brushes and stand your canvases on the side to dry..." Harry instructed and the class erupted into action.

 

Louis took this as an opportunity to slink towards the door but Harry made a careful beeline around the classroom to sneak up behind him. He tapped him on the shoulder.

 

"I believe you've forgotten something, Mr. Tomlinson?"

 

Louis stared at him flatly.

 

"No?"

 

"A little something that belongs in this classroom?" Harry added.

 

Louis frowned a bit.

 

"What are you accusing me of now? I just left juvie to do this bollocks and now-"

 

"The guillotine," Harry spoke over him as his tone rose, settling his active class into watching them instead of clearing up.

 

Louis blinked and swallowed, looking to his feet as he shifted on them. When he lifted his head he flicked his hair out of his eyes.

 

He released his elbow from digging into his side and slid the paper-cutting board out from under his coat.

 

"Must have slipped, hm?" Harry raised a brow; mildly amused.

 

Louis pressed his lips together in a bitter twist and placed the item in Harry's hands with a sigh.

 

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "It was for my sister."

 

Harry's head came up as Louis twisted and walked quickly from the room, his black jeans complemented with ankle-high trainers today instead of his usual black plimsolls.

 

He couldn't help wondering where Louis had gotten them.

 

//

 

Louis had found a new place to stay.

 

An old friend of his, Zayn Malik, was fresh out of juvie and laying low in a squat so when they bumped into each other Louis snatched the chance to take one of the dirty, thin mattresses thrown on the floor of the house him and his friends had taken over.

 

He didn't sleep well there, everything was heard through the communal rooms and open doorways. He could hear girls and boys having sex. Could hear people tightening straps on their arms to inject. He could hear Zayn rolling a spliff and lighting it, the sweet-sour herb smell drifting his way seconds later.

 

"Hey, Tommo..." Zayn's quiet voice nudged him out of his bed. "Have some draw, man."

 

Louis obliged the invitation, wondering when his next chance to ride was. It had been one whole week since he'd last taken a car and he was on his last warning, literally. It wouldn't be juvie next time and the trouble was they were watching him, hard.

 

He'd been followed a few times last week, had felt watchful eyes over his shoulder.

 

So maybe he needed to lay low for a while too.

 

Maybe he needed to find another ride.

 

//

 

"So when can I ride this stupid horse of yours?"

 

Harry squinted at the brown-haired delinquent who had taken to sitting on the side-table instead of a stool.

 

He was sticking pieces of paper to a backing card, though, so it was progress.

 

"King Louis?" Harry questioned.

 

"So you say," Louis snorted.

 

"He's at my parents house, it's a half-hour drive," Harry shared. "When would you like to go?"

 

"Now," Louis replied honestly, rubbing a bit of glue off of his pointer finger and thumb.

 

Harry smiled.

 

"I have to work out what to tell my Dad," Harry admitted. "You do know you made the local newspaper?" He teased.

 

Louis rolled his eyes.

 

"If I wasn't already banned from going home, I think that would have done it," he shared unknowingly, frowning when he realised what had come out of his mouth. He sucked his tongue as Harry's gaze grew soft and sorrowful.

 

Louis hated pity.

 

"Perhaps this coming weekend?" Harry suggested. "Does Saturday morning suit?"

 

Louis gave him a bemused look, flicking the dried glue away from his fingers.

 

"You're joking?"

 

Harry frowned, reaching across the table to smooth down an errant edge of Louis' collage.

 

"Not at all," he confirmed.

 

Louis scoffed, sitting back and regarding him.

 

The man was a mess of colours, his shirt was a frankly disgusting mash of patterns and shades that somehow Harry managed to carry well, the shirt hanging loose from a pair of black jeans, Harry's height boosted by some gold boots.

 

His hair was long enough to cover his pecs and Louis found himself briefly wondering what his bare skin looked like under it. Did his nipples poke through? Were they dark and small or pale and wide, hidden behind the curtain of his hair?

 

Harry settled a gentle hand among the strands to push them back and to the side slightly, elevating his fringe.

 

"Does nobody ever tell you to cut your hair?" Louis wondered then.

 

Harry looked startled by the question for all of three seconds before he smiled indulgently.

 

"Actually, no. I've been expecting my father to comment the same ever since I started growing it..."

 

Louis tilted his head, a confused expression etched on his handsome features.

 

"You're not like most silver-spoons," Louis observed.

 

Harry shifted on his feet with a cough.

 

"I'm a silver spoon?" He ventured cautiously.

 

Louis flicked him a grin and threw back his head to laugh loudly, earning the attention of the other students.

 

Harry moved onto the next table subtly, hoping he hadn't been unfair in dividing his attention today. Before he made it to Swann's easel, Louis called out.

 

"Alright Hippy Styles or whatever your name is," he smirked. "Lets do the horse-riding thing."

 

Harry paused stiffly as Swann looked up at him with her brow arched nearly accusingly.

 

"Is that part of the arrangement?" Swann asked quietly as Harry studied her collage.

 

He chewed his lip in guilty realisation that it most definitely was not.

 

//

 

"How the fuck am I supposed to get up there?"

 

Louis' hands planted on his hips as Harry came around the front of King Louis with the reigns.

 

"I have a box you can mount him from," Harry supplied, moving said box beside his horse.

 

When Louis climbed up and grasped the knuckle of the saddle the horse spooked a bit, treading uneasily.

 

"Just talk to him," Harry suggested. "He likes hearing your voice."

 

Louis gave Harry a rueful stare, as though he was slowly going mad.

 

"Talk to it? It can't talk back, Harold..."

 

Harry swallowed at the use of his full name. His dad of course had referred to him as _Harold_ when Louis had swaggered into the house to meet his parents and his father had barely looked up from his laptop thankfully but his mum had been extra nice and something weird had happened.

 

Louis had been nice back.

 

He'd softened perceptibly, had smiled gently at his mum as he'd sipped tea delicately from her bone china (with a saucer no less) and he'd even complimented her macaroons which Harry had begged her several times to cease baking due to them tasting more like macaroni that macaroon.

 

And watching Louis make nice with his mother had been thoroughly confusing. Of course his father had been his usual abrupt self, asking Harry bluntly 'if this was one of his little male friends' to which Harry had blushed and scolded his father before dragging Louis away before Robin said anything else ridiculous.

 

And now Louis was tummy down on King Louis kicking his legs to get into position to settle into his saddle.

 

"Alright, horsey," Louis mumbled as he stroked King Louis' mane. "I thought we had kinship what with both being called Louis..."

 

Harry smirked at that, mounting another of his Father's horses, Elizabeth.

 

"Come on then, beautiful," he let her trot as she stomped impatiently.

 

Louis called out sharply.

 

"Hey! How do I get this thing to go?"

 

Harry looked over his shoulder, bringing Elizabeth to a reluctant stop.

 

"Dig your heels into his haunches," he described and Louis did so without much measure, causing King Louis to dart off and almost sending Louis somersaulting over his back.

 

Harry chuckled and shook his head, reminding him to press 'gently'. Louis gave him a scathing look and asked for basic controls as they headed around the grounds of the house.

 

It was beautiful, the view out across the hills. When Harry watched Louis once they settled for a moment on a viewpoint he realised how out of place the younger man looked in his off-centre cap and black hoodie with his dark look and beardy.

 

Harry realised, too, how humans weren't so different after all. They way they both sat there watching the world with the same reverence said it all.

 

"We can have lunch at the house if you'd like."

 

Harry's voice fell deeply around, hair twisted into a tidy bun. He shunted up his glasses gently.

 

"What's for lunch?" Louis asked eagerly.

 

"Ploughman's I should have thought," Harry offered. "Maybe a stew and dumplings if we're lucky..."

 

Louis couldn't help with bemused smile. _God, how the other half lived_.

 

He had to steal Pot Noodles most days and Harry sat here with a granted three meals a day and endless snacks.

 

"Why did you bring me here?" Louis asked him then, stroking King's mane before squinting at Harry in the spring sun.

 

Harry sucked in a breath.

 

"The truth is, I'm not really sure."

 

"Why did you let me?" Louis persisted. "Knowing I could be after your silver..?"

 

"The silver isn't worth anything, it's all costume cutlery," he lied.

 

Louis wasn't going to get the answer he was looking for about Harry's reasons for bringing him but the fact that he _had_ meant more to Louis than anything else had for a while.

 

The frantic buzzing pain in his chest that could only be numbed by seeking an adrenaline rush normally was suddenly quieter and soothed. The sounds of birds singing around them, the rustle of breeze in the trees. Animal noises, quiet insect sounds. Harry's breathing, the sound of him tucking his hair back as a curl broke loose from his bun. The horses feet clacking against the stone of the outlook.

 

Louis slipped off his cap and ran a hand through his slightly sweaty hair, paying his respects to the almost unreal view before him. He hadn't known what hills looked like, how many different shades of green there were. If he was really honest he'd never understood what people saw in the countryside, what hooked them in.

 

Now it was exploding in his chest in Technicolor surround sound and the person beside him was just a random guy who ran an art class and who was obligated to get Louis on the path to righteousness.

 

Only-

 

Louis listened to his heartbeat, thick and steady.

 

He knew, deep down that Harry wasn't here because of obligation.

 

"Thank you," Louis said, thinking he probably didn't say that enough.

 

Harry looked across.

 

"You're welcome," he replied politely.

 

Louis smiled devilishly, turning his horse around and digging his heels into his haunches.

 

"Yee-ha!" He whooped, setting King to a fast run.

 

He laughed loudly as he heard Harry curse and fluster to catch up with him.

 

//

 

Harry was doing paperwork at the desk in the corner of the big classroom when a spoon was laid in front of him, bringing his eyes up.

 

"I took it," Louis was stood there, shrugging. "You didn't catch me."

 

Harry swallowed.

 

His gaze flicked back to the spoon.

 

"Keep it," he insisted. "That's one of my father's real silver spoons. You might get five pounds for it at a pawn shop," Harry suggested.

 

Louis tilted his head.

 

"You stab the man in the back that gave you everything...interesting," he mused, taking the spoon and sliding it back in his pocket after a second furtive glance at Harry to check he meant what he'd said.

 

"Not really," Harry leaned back in his chair, linking his hands behind his head. "It's hardly stabbing him in the back. And I can bet he won't even miss it," he added sourly.

 

"You begrudge your upbringing, don't you?" Louis guessed easily, sitting on the edge of Harry's desk and helping himself to Harry's apple.

 

Harry didn't stop him. He also didn't elaborate.

 

"Are you ready for drawing class?" He asked instead.

 

Louis arched a brow at his avoidance to answer but chewed on his apple quietly.

 

"Suppose. Never was much good at it," he added quietly, kicking his feet.

 

Harry got up from his desk, tidying his papers into the drawer.

 

"If you really don't want to do it I can find you some other work?"

 

Louis hummed in consideration, feet swinging alternately.

 

"Nah. I'll try it," he decided.

 

Harry smirked a bit.

 

"You knew I was going to make you clean something didn't you?"

 

Louis smiled, biting into the apple with a nod.

 

"Yep," he said around the fruit.

 

"Well I'm sure you'll get something out of it," Harry offered.

 

Louis had started sitting with Swann. Harry didn't know whether this was a good thing or a bad thing since Swann had been a nervous young woman at the start of the course due to some difficulties she'd had escaping her old life with an abusive ex. In fact some of his classes were predominantly female-only and although men weren't banned Harry had worried about including Louis in such classes due to his criminal past.

 

But actually, Louis had bonded with the nervous Swann and he often sat up close pointing out things to her on her canvas, willingly fetching her any item she wanted, His quiet words, cheeky smile and almost adorable-giggles were winning Swann over and Harry could see it. Swann trusted him.

 

"So," he snuck up behind the pair as they sat huddled, heads close together. "What are you partners in crime up to I wonder?"

 

Swann smiled at him innocently showcasing her sweeping black hawk design. It was  a man with big black wings.

 

"Louis is helping me with the composition," the girl told him and Harry's eyes immediately flicked to his new charge.

 

"Is that so? I hoped we'd see at least an outline of your own sketch, Louis," Harry added gently.

 

Louis rolled his eyes and puffed air into his fringe.

 

"Yeah, yeah..." He moved his stool back to his own canvas and contemplated his design. "Can you stand still then, Harold?"

 

Harry paused, eyes flickering about the room. His hand was stroking his chin as he circled, the other arm wrapped across his waist almost self-consciously. He had a billowy shirt on today with dark brown corduroys, a tan sueded neck piece dangling down to his chest among his messy curls.

 

He shunted his glasses up.

 

"Me?" He checked then. "You want _me_ to stand still?"

 

Louis hummed.

 

"So I can draw you," he said matter-of-factly, scratching his pencil against paper.

 

"I'm sure you can think of a far more interesting subject than-"

 

"Your face is moving," Louis interrupted, earning a hiss of laughter from Swann.

 

Harry rather felt he was being outnumbered.

 

"Alright how do you want me?" He mused with a resigned sigh.

 

He looked over when Louis didn't reply.

 

"On all fours for two days straight," Louis managed to reply, snickering at his own joke and earning himself a shocked gasp from the room collectively.

 

Louis bit his lip to curb his amusement and waited for the shouting to come.

 

None came.

 

Just big, disappointed eyes and pouty, turned down lips. He'd never been so close to somebody he'd made mad before. Only Harry wasn't mad, he was something else, he was-

 

"I know you don't want to be here but I expected you to try," Harry told him quietly, lowly whispering even though the room was silent so he could still be heard. "There's no need to ruin my entire business by being rude in front of my students."

 

Louis rolled his eyes with a sigh.

 

He got up from his stool and waved a hand around regally.

 

"Sorry if I upset your day, folks," he rambled out, stumbling a bit towards the door. Harry frowned, edging towards him. "Please don't take it out on dear Harold here, he's--ungh."

 

Harry never found out what he was because Louis face-planted the floor.

 

"Is he drunk?" Harry asked Swann.

 

She swallowed with a nervous shake of her head.

 

"Oh god, Swann, what did you give him?" Harry wondered instantly, eyes widening as he strode over in two long steps to gather Louis' prone body from the floor.

 

"Just a blue pill and he asked for it, I didn't just give it," she defended softly.

 

"Do you have any more?" Harry asked tersely as he turned towards the front of the building. "Swann, I need you to come with me," he added sharply as he walked through reception.

 

"Kay I have an emergency here, I'm taking Louis to the hospital. My next class isn't until three so can you hold the fort for me until then?" He barked at his receptionist who assured that they'd be fine and didn't try and persuade Harry to call an ambulance instead.

 

Swann scattered after Harry as he hurried into the car-park, unlocking his jeep and sitting Louis in the front. Swann sat in the back curled over guiltily.

 

"Harry...you don't hate me do you?" She asked quietly amongst sniffles as he drove to the A&E.

 

Harry gritted his teeth together and then released the tension.

 

"I don't hate you," he promised. "It was Louis' choice," he added.

 

It was Louis' choice and Harry had no idea why he'd made it.

 

//

 

"Oi, look at this poofta..."

 

Dirty giggles echoed in the corridor.

 

"Fuck me, is he wearing corduroy?"

 

"Right fucking fairy prince..."

 

"Put some fucking flowers in his hair and he'd be a fairy _princess_..."

 

The snickering made Harry's skin crawl. He looked up to see the source, finding three boys crowding up beside Louis' bed, cutting him out.

 

"Who're you?" An Asian boy asked him eyeing him up and down as he moved away.

 

"I brought him here, I'm-"

 

"Oh proper plummy, too," the second boy said, one with ginger hair.

 

"Hippy Princess Fairy," the third boy smirked- a tall guy with high, brown hair.

 

Harry smiled fakely.

 

"I'll leave you with your friend, look after him," he said only, turning to go.

 

//

 

It was a dark night.

 

Harry hadn't seen Louis at the art centre for several days now and he couldn't help being worried. Kate had told him Louis had been released from hospital and that everything was okay but everything wasn't ok because Louis hadn't come back.

 

So Harry had taken to stalking the streets looking for him, not even sure what he'd find.

 

He crept around the shadows of the darkest parts of town where bonfires were lit in old oil cans and cheap alcohol was shared around.

 

There seemed to be one dilapidated house that quite a few people disappeared into and Harry had his suspicions. He'd hung around there a few times but tonight he was looking around the car parks, hoping Louis wasn't stealing cars again but somehow feeling like he might be trying to.

 

"Oi, Cookie-Monster!"

 

The voice was so loud it echoed and the band of three boys thundered towards him, all boys he recognised. They'd visited Louis in hospital.

 

Harry clutched his blue fur jacket around himself defensively.

 

"H-Have you seen Louis?" He asked when they surrounded him. "I wanted to make sure he was okay."

 

"He's fine but why do you want to know?" The Asian boy plucked at the front of his jacket, getting the edge loose.

 

"I'm supposed to be helping him," Harry offered.

 

"Wearing that?" The ginger boy laughed. "Don't think so, princess..."

 

Harry frowned, lowering his arms to fist his hands and the action caused some crowing in the circle.

 

"Oh look at him, silver spoon ready to swing..."

 

"Plum fluff extraordinaire..."

 

"Go on then," the tall one shunted him from behind.

 

Harry stumbled and twirled, finding a hand gripping into the front of his jacket and then he was being unwrapped from it, the furry blue garment flying across the car-park and landing a few feet away.

 

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose, left shivering in a pink rose-print cotton top and grey jeans with boots.

 

A revving engine sounded in the distance and they all looked up and around, seeing a blue ford escort advancing across the car park.

 

Harry took advantage of the moment of distraction to make a grab for his jacket, tucking his arms back into the sleeves and shivering into its warmth before turning to escape.

 

Behind him, the car skidded to halt in a hand-brake manoeuvre and the passenger window buzzed down. Louis was at the wheel.

 

The three boys crowded the car, trying the doors. They were all locked.

 

"Nice ride, Lou..."

 

"Come on then bro, let us in..."

 

Louis looked out the front screen, seeing Harry walking slowly away.

 

"Sorry guys, got something I need to do," he said, buzzing up the window and pulling away, gliding slowly up beside Harry.

 

Harry twisted sharply, expecting the three rowdy boys to jump out and abduct him.

 

"Ass-hole!"

 

"Shit-bag!"

 

"Go fuck the cookie monster then!"

 

Harry frowned at the yells of Louis' friends far behind them as Louis buzzed down the passenger window once more.

 

"Nice friends you have," Harry commented dryly.

 

Louis unlocked the door, stopping.

 

"Wanna go for a ride?"

 

Harry looked at him.

 

"That depends, am I going to get arrested?"

 

Louis smirked.

 

"Only if you blow me in public..."

 

Harry tried not to blush and failed.

 

"I might just walk..."

 

The angry yells of Louis' friends and their sudden break into a run changed his mind and he quickly threw himself in the car.

 

"Okay, save me," he begged to Louis as he put on his seat-belt. "Take me back to Kansas..."

 

Louis chuckled deep in his throat and hit the throttle, smoothly steering the car away from the car-park.

 

"I didn't steal it," Louis said a few minutes later while Harry tried to work out how to breathe.

 

"Oh, good," Harry nibbled at his lower lip, his eyes darting side to side as streetlights and signs whizzed by them.

 

"And I won't kill you so you can just relax," Louis mused.

 

Harry flicked him a look. Louis pursed his lips.

 

"Don't tell me, you want cookies?"

 

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.

 

Louis tugged at the fluff on the sleeve of his jacket.

 

"You've gotta admit, it looks a bit like a skinned muppet..."

 

"I guess," Harry allowed.

 

Louis flicked another look at him.

 

"Sorry I haven't been to class. I'll back tomorrow I promise."

 

"Tomorrow is a Saturday, Louis..."

 

Louis slowed down a bit as they neared the art centre.

 

"Can I help anyway? What do you usually do on Saturdays?"

 

Harry looked at his inter-linked fingers.

 

"I usually do a stock take. Eternally boring," he added.

 

"I'll help," Louis promised.

 

Harry frowned, not sure if he should ask;

 

"You have somewhere to go tonight?"

 

Louis nodded tersely.

 

"It won't cause an issue for you, will it? Picking me up?"

 

Louis smiled.

 

"Only for being ribbed endlessly I expect."

 

"You could have left me," Harry reasoned.

 

Louis pulled up at the front door.

 

"Were you looking for me?" He asked.

 

Harry nodded, shyly tucking his hair behind his ear.

 

"I was."

 

"Then I stopped for the right person," he observed.

 

Harry looked at him, looked right into those beautiful blue-grey eyes for as long as Louis allowed him to.

 

"Want me to walk you to the door?" Louis asked sweetly.

 

Harry chuckled and pushed his door open, helping himself out.

 

"Goodnight, Louis."

 

"Laters, baby," Louis called before pulling away quickly, the strength of the motor in the car evident from the speed he reached in just a few seconds.

 

_Laters, baby?_

 

Harry frowned to himself. What did that mean?

 

He resolved to check Google when he got inside

 

//

 

Harry was studying his order sheet intensely but no matter how hard he focused, his mind could not switch off from _Fifty Shades of Grey_.

 

It's not like he wanted to try it or anything like that. But why had Louis chosen that particular phrase to call out? To make Harry feel inferior? To make him feel as inadequate as Anna had felt with Christian?

 

He was finding it hard to look Louis in the eye.

 

"Daveliou red sunset..." Harry called out while Louis checked the rack.

 

There was some risk in letting Louis close to his paints but Harry was nearly beyond caring what Louis tried to steal from him now.

 

"Yep...three quarters full..." Louis confirmed. "Hey I got nine quid for your dad's spoon you know."

 

"Really?" Harry's brows rose. "I'll try and slide another one in my pocket next time I go," he promised.

 

Louis gave him that same bemused look that told Harry he didn't understand his indifference towards his father.

 

"Maybe you haven't had the kind of life I've had," Harry began gently. "But believe me, not all of it is positive no matter the money involved."

 

"Rich people always claim money doesn't matter," Louis observed.

 

Harry looked at him.

 

"Breaking away from my father is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Failing is not an option. I may have been kept nicely, Louis but I don't feel like I belong there. I don't know where I belong actually, I've never been encouraged to find out."

 

"The studio?" Louis posed, turning from the oil paint rack to look at Harry with his gentle blue eyes.

 

Harry lifted one shoulder.

 

"It's close...it's not-"

 

"It's better than a doss-house," Louis inserted quickly, flicking his fringe away.

 

Harry lifted his chin.

 

"Are you safe there?" He asked worriedly.

 

Louis shrugged too.

 

"As safe as I can be. Safer than the streets."

 

"Why did...?

 

Louis made a rueful face.

 

"Why do you think?"

 

Harry frowned.

 

"Honestly, I don't know. I don't know why any parent would disown their child, Louis..."

 

"Because I'm gay, Harry," he shared openly. "They kicked me out because I'm gay."

 

Louis swallowed and Harry nodded.

 

"My father is homophobic, too," he said lowly, like Louis might not remember all this tomorrow.

 

"I noticed," Louis ached a brow. "Asking if I was your male-friend," he added with a snort.

 

"Because evidently I parade a whole harem of male-company around the house," Harry rolled his eyes.

 

"Maybe you should," Louis smirked.

 

Harry smiled back.

 

"I've got to find the right one first."

 

"Of course," Louis nodded. "I'll help you..."

 

He snatched Harry's stock-sheet from his hands and turned it over, stealing his pen, too.

 

"Right..." Louis dress two headers- physical and personality. "Let's see...what do you like in a guy's looks?"

 

Harry stared at him dumbly.

 

"I...er...uhm..."

 

Louis snorted.

 

"Jesus Harry, just describe the last guy you fucked..."

 

Harry's brows lifted and his eyes lowered, his Adams apple bobbing slowly.

 

Louis felt shame wash over him as he realised, clumsily, that Harry hadn't fucked anybody, yet. And he didn't know his type because he'd never been allowed to find out.

 

"Look, hey..." Louis tucked the pen in his pocket and tossed the paper away even though Harry watched it forlornly falling thinking he still needed to check the stock for his order. He waited for Louis to finish his thought. "It's okay that you don't know what you like," Louis assured. "We just need to take you to a strip club to find out."

 

Harry's head shot up, he opened his mouth to object.

 

"Honestly, Harold, it's the best way to find out what tickles your fancy," Louis winked and Harry felt a worming fear in his belly that it was _Louis_ who tickled his fancy rather a bit too much.

 

"Okay," he agreed slowly, meeting Louis' gaze.

 

"We'll go after we finish stock-take," he smiled easily. "I know a great place."

 

//

 

Harry had _heard_ about lap dancing clubs of course, but he had never been to one.

 

Mostly because the dancers were predominantly female and also because his father would probably have an aneurysm or coronary if he knew.

 

Louis knew of a male dancing club. He'd grabbed Harry's hand to get him in and he'd sat him in a private booth at the back.

 

Harry had brought the money, naturally. More from his father's investment that he wouldn't even miss. He didn't care. He was twenty one and by now he ought to know what he liked in a guy.

 

Harry looked up wide eyed and leaned forward as Louis went to leave.

 

"Just tip the one you like best," Louis winked.

 

Harry reached for him.

 

"Stay?" He asked helplessly. "Please?"

 

Louis tilted his head.

 

"Not sure you really want me here, Harold," he said. "Find me when you're done..."

 

Harry grabbed a glass of free bubbly and knocked it back. He wondered who was the teacher: him or Louis.

 

//

 

Men began to appear from behind a curtain in succession grinding back against his lap suggestively; some even stealing kisses.

 

He sat with his hands tucked under his thighs for the most part, only tempted into kissing a pretty petite Tinkerbell boy so far. He'd slipped him a twenty and earned a stroke to his thigh.

 

The trouble was that even though most of these guys didn't do it for Harry, the whole situation was turning him on. Having attention lavished on him, getting to choose who he wanted...

 

It was true that _petite_ was doing it for him right now. Tinkerbell was back and apparently he wanted to make him hard because he was straddling Harry's lap and simulating sex. And how was Harry meant to not get hard at that exactly?

 

His big hands wrapped around a small waist, his eyes tracing down the young man's throat, falling onto his chest. 

 

"You're so pretty," he complimented.

 

Tinkerbell fluttered his lashes.

 

"How pretty? Want to shoot, big boy?" 

 

A small hand pushed up his thigh heel first; the strength of his arousal evident in his jeans.

 

Harry groaned and his head rolled back.

 

He fumbled for a fifty.

 

//

 

His heart was racing, his skin was flushed. His hair, _he was certain_ , gave him the appearance of one who had been dragged backwards through a hedge.

 

Louis' eyes zeroed in on him, dark and intense. He smirked, coming closer.

 

Had he--

 

Had he been just _waiting_? Waiting for Harry to come out?

 

"Did they show you a good time?" Louis asked, eyes avidly slipping over him.

 

"Hmm," Harry hummed with a nod.

 

"Who did you like best?"

 

"Tinkerbell," Harry confirmed instantly.

 

That nymph was the reason he was sweating and was still hard in his pants now.

 

"Oh yeah?" Louis seemed to mentally note something. "And did Tinkerbell um... _tinkle your bell_?" He led.

 

Harry gave him a look.

 

"I-"

 

He swallowed clenching his teeth and pressing the heel of his hand against the front of his  jeans.

 

"Didn't quite finish the deed," Harry admitted shamefully, circling his eyes around behind Louis' head, focusing on the other customers in the club in an effort to take his mind off the throbbing in his pants. His hand hung there protectively, cupping his manhood.

 

Harry waited for the teasing words to fall from Louis' lips only none came so he dipped his chin to look at him.

 

Louis shuffled closer, one hand curling around Harry's forearm surprisingly tender.

 

"Hey," he frowned. "Didn't they give you what you paid for?"

 

Harry's lips twisted, his eyes flicking away. His lashes hovered over his cheeks and he begged the words to come, ones that could explain this.

 

"Can we-Can we just go?" He asked, his voice low and husky, kind of dirty. "I just want to go."

 

He was swaying a bit as Louis' gaze assessed him, his tongue darting out to wet his lips and his eyes big. Louis wondered how much he'd had to drink.

 

Suddenly Louis was crowding close, pressing Harry gently back against the wall. He lifted his chin, arms caging around Harry's waist. Harry curled a bit into him, sagging. Louis smelled fresh like sunshine and lemons in this dingy, dark place that smelled like beer and sex.

 

He felt the slight brush of Louis' breath against his cheek, making him shudder.

 

"We'll get you the full package, Harold," Louis' voice was a  little bit high and loud. "We're not leaving yet."

 

Harry shook his head and tried to escape the arms pinning his sides, the small body pressing into him and creating a confused frown to pout his lips.

 

"Louis, what're you-"

 

A hand, small and confident, pressed against the front of his jeans and his hips couldn't help but jump into the touch.

 

"Oh-oh!" Harry stuttered out the pleasured sound, moaning in his throat.

 

"Is that what you wanted, Harold?"

 

Harry was shaking his head again.

 

"No-don't want it... _can't_ ," he added desperately, searching through his alcohol hazed mind to remember why they couldn't. The reason was there somewhere, he just couldn't find it.

 

"Shh, I won't tell anyone...can't believe you've never done this," Louis added.

 

Harry made a noise in his throat and pushed against Louis' palm again.

 

"Alright, easy, Princess," Louis trailed back some of Harry's messy hair, gently securing it behind his ear. "So keen now aren't you?"

 

Harry's mouth opened as Louis rubbed the heel of his hand very gently down his zipper, pressing harder with each stroke.

 

"N-no...you can't...you can't do that," he mumbled, hips pushing forward in petty contrast to his protest. "You mustn't do that..."

 

"Mustn't I?" Louis arched a brow at Harry's prose, licking his lips and leaning in close. "Why's that then? Tell me..."

 

"Someone might see us...ah-oh, god..."

 

Louis smiled darkly as Harry thrust hard against his hand, the heat of his heavy arousal straining now, pressing painfully against the denim. Louis had deft fingers and he slipped the rivet through the button-hole, tugging the zipper down just a notch.

 

A big, hot hand covered his, a bit sweaty.  He looked up but Harry's eyes were heavy-lidded, his lips plush from being bitten by his own teeth and if Louis didn't know it, he'd think Harry had been wrecked in that room.

 

"Look at you, hm?" Louis murmured. "Pretty little posh boy gonna get all dirty?"

 

Louis had no idea that his words would be enough to get Harry going again, a loud groan of approval spilling from his lips. Harry's hand remained around his wrist tightly but whether it was to drag his hand away or keep it there, Louis wasn't sure.

 

"C'mon, Harold. We came here to get you off that means you've got to spill..."

 

Harry sagged further into the wall and Louis had to hold him up, one knee slipping between Harry's. When his thigh reached the apex of Harry's thighs, the older man rocked his hips with a breathy 'yeah' that Louis was still getting over when Harry curled his arms around his shoulders to hold on tight.

 

His hand was freed from the invasion, Harry now rutting against his thigh tightly, slow and erratic and it meant Louis could only hold him tight around his waist and whisper reassurances into his ear.

 

"Just pretend I'm your little Tinkerbell," he mused, almost dryly. "Make me look pretty with your come, Harold..."

 

"Oh-" Harry's low hums were choked off as he pressed hard and high against Louis' thigh, a trembling preceding the very short, sharp thrusts that followed. He could be imaging the warmth that spread over Harry's groin but he doubted it.

 

It took a few minutes for Harry to look up.

 

"What-what happened?"

 

Louis smirked.

 

"We got what we came for..."

 

"What have I done?" Harry added right after, leaning back to finger at his open jeans in mortification, rubbing the wet material of his boxers between his fingers and thumb.

 

Louis shrugged.

 

"What's an orgasm between friends," he commented as Harry re-fastened his jeans quietly, a worried frown etching his face.

 

He'd look so beautiful in those seconds he'd let go, pale throat exposed and long, long hair trailing down onto Louis' arms. Now he was trying to pull away and stand on shaky legs and Louis' hands felt empty with nothing to hold.

 

"Let's get you home," he suggested quickly.

 

Harry glanced at him unsurely but he nodded and Louis gently led him out.

 

//

 

Harry could state honestly that he'd experienced his first real hangover.

 

The soirees that he'd attended before where he'd felt rather woozy on too much red wine after cheese didn't compare to how he felt now.

 

His throat was parched and everything ached.

 

And then there were flashes of images popping into his mind taunting him like dark dreams. He didn't know what was real and what was not.

 

Of course Robin and Anne had chosen that afternoon to visit him at Sunshine House while he loped about yawning and throwing his hair back, the length of which seemed to only just be dawning on his father.

 

"Honestly Harold, isn't it about time you chopped that lot off?" Robin asked with disdain.

 

His three o'clock class was due to start arriving soon but his protests fell on deaf ears.

 

"I'm sure your class won't mind meeting your parents," Robin cheered. "The very people that put you here."

 

Harry gritted his teeth against arguing that point, knowing it was his own hard work that had got him there but his father would never concede that so he just didn't bother trying.

 

Harry tied half of his hair onto the crown, nervously pushing his glasses frames up his nose.

 

"So, um...how is everything back at home?" He offered politely, folding his arms and leaning in the doorway of his classroom while his mother and father wandered around looking at the supplies and produce of his teachings.

 

A sharp slap sounded behind him, followed by a sting on his skin, his hand moving subconsciously to rub at his butt.

 

"Hey, Harold," came Louis' eager tones, a smirk in his voice.

 

Harry swallowed and turned, eyes wide. He put a finger vertically over his lips to hush his new friend.

 

"What do you mean, shush?" Louis asked loudly. "Just wanted to slap that-"

 

Louis stuttered to a halt as Anne shifted into view, his brow arching.

 

"O-oh. Mrs. Styles," he instantly smiled to ingratiate himself.

 

He slipped past Harry to take her hand, kissing the back of it and bowing.

 

"To what do we owe this undoubted pleasure?" Louis asked with a charming smile.

 

Robin had turned from studying the canvases to give Louis the once over, curling his lip in disgust.

 

"Don't gloves have fingers anymore?" He asked disgustedly of Louis' fingerless versions.

 

Louis turned his cap around from backwards to slightly off-centre with a benign smile.

 

"Mr. Styles," he dipped his chin.

 

"I'd have thought you'd prefer to be slapping girls' asses," the pompous man mused, brushing past them to see what was written on the wall behind the white-board.

 

Anne's eyes followed Robin for a moment before falling back on Louis who was biting his lip in trying not to grin.

 

"So. You're Harry's young man are you?" She asked.

 

"No-"

 

"Yes," Louis and Harry replied at the same time, both of them looking at each other. Harry in confusion and Louis in mischievity.

 

Anne flicked her gaze between the two.

 

"I understand, it's all new. Harry's new to all of this so-"

 

"Mum," Harry cut in, low with warning. "Louis doesn't need to know the ins and outs of my love-life, thank you..."

 

"Not many ins and outs," she winked at the shorter, younger man. "Maybe you can change that."

 

"Oh god," Harry groaned, planting both hands over his hot face.

 

"Anne, we don't need the disgusting details," Robin commented from the doorway now that Harry had shifted into the room further.

 

"It's not disgusting," Louis chirped up, bold as brass.

 

Harry dropped his hands and shook his head slightly in warning.

 

"Oh? You don't sodomise each other then?" Robin asked politely, making Anne gasp.

 

"Robin, there's no need for that!"

 

"Actually yes we do," Louis replied with a quick wan smile. "But there's nothing disgusting about it. Maybe you should try it. Might relax you a bit," he suggested audaciously.

 

Robin's face began to ruddy with unspoken anger and Harry glared at Louis before turning to speak with his father.

 

"Dad, ignore him, it's-"

 

"And this is the best you can do?" Robin accused thickly. "Of all the men in town, this is the one you want to be with?"

 

Harry closed his eyes and sighed, chewing on his lip.

 

He felt a hand slip onto his side and he opened his eyes in surprise, finding Anne there. She winked.

 

"Well _I_ happen to like him," she told Harry before she floated to the doorway to followed her tempestuous husband out.

 

Harry ground his teeth together, hands jammed to his hips.

 

"Your dad's way too uptight," Louis remarked once both of Harry's parents were out of sight.

 

Harry turned.

 

"Why did you tell them we're together?" He asked, annoyed. "Now my Mum is going to expect you to come for Sunday lunch."

 

Louis shrugged.

 

"Good. I love a roast."

 

Harry sucked in air and let it out slowly. When he spoke, his voice was thick with shame.

 

"Look, just because I did something stupid last night and you took advantage of me while I was drunk does not give you the right to act superior now," he said emphatically.

 

Louis arched a brow, his gaze working slowly down Harry's body, working equally slowly back up. Harry was wearing his oversized pale blue shirt for painting and jeggings with bare feet. He may as well be wearing nothing judging by the piercing invasion of Louis' gaze.

 

"I took advantage of you did I?" He asked only in response to Harry's accusation.

 

Harry swallowed, his eyelashes flickering as his gaze dropped.

 

"Maybe. I'm not sure, I don't remember everything."

 

"And it's my fault you got drunk enough to forget?" Louis added knowingly.

 

Harry found the courage to meet his gaze.

 

"Maybe not," he accepted quietly.

 

Louis shook his head with a bemused smile.

 

"Thought you liked what we did," he mused almost to himself. "I didn't realise I was coercing you... _forcing_ you into it," he added grimly.

 

"I didn't say that-" Harry started.

 

"No, I get it," Louis stripped off his gloves, finding a seat on the side table and hopping up, swinging his legs back and forth. "I get it completely..."

 

Harry wanted to say more. He wanted to say so much more. Like how good Louis looked today, his hair clean and his fingernails clean and filed short. He smelled like lemons and his skin glowed. Harry wondered then just where he'd been staying and whether his three no-good friends were still angry at him for driving away.

 

He wanted to tell Louis that the little he did remember of last night- a sweet, sweet release after long, hot minutes of build-up- were some of the best memories he owned, far surpassing his clean existence so far, outdoing his bland innocence.

 

He could kill his mother for telling Louis he didn't have much experience but then Louis already knew that.

 

It took the entry of the female students to knock him out of his moment; looking up to check on Louis instinctively. Louis was suddenly fascinated by photography apparently, intensely reading Harry's favourite book. Harry looked away to move front and centre to start the class.


	2. Chapter 2

****

Harry had been right about the Sunday lunch invitation.

 

Anne issued it midweek and no matter how many arguments Harry put up, she refused to let Harry attend without Louis by his side.

 

Harry felt defeated. The part of his brain that could remember every perfectly salacious moment with Louis in the club cheered for this chance to just be domestic with him. The other half- the one that didn't want to disappoint his father or give into some madness of a first crush- dreaded the outcome of all of this.

 

He owed it to Louis to ask.

 

Only Louis was slipping out of class before Harry even had a chance to hold him back, to properly speak with him about their last conversation.

 

He'd never dreamed Louis would be upset at Harry's denial of their encounter in the club. He'd assumed Louis was just as embarrassed as he was and wanting to forget the whole thing. Because whenever Harry thought about it his cheeks scorched red and hot. Louis had been his first gay sexual encounter of any kind and well-

 

He was a _criminal_ , for Christ's sake.

 

Harry had to find him, though to ask him. And since moving out he considered the levels he'd had to drop himself to just to get by but actually, he found he truly didn't mind.

 

People were gathering on street corners, some females in very revealing outfits asking him if he wanted a good time. Harry thought he'd had a good enough time already thanks, but he didn't tell them that he just slipped by them quietly.

 

He found the building he believed Louis lived in quite easily, just as he had before. He stood and looked at it, grazing his teeth over his lip as if expecting Louis to receive some telepathic message that he was there.

 

He had to go inside.

 

He grimaced. What if they noticed he didn't belong here? His skinny jeans and gold Yves Saint Laurent boots weren't helping his case. His jacket was long and expensive. He sighed. No matter, the point here was to get to Louis. If someone stole the coat off his back because of it, so be it.

 

He carefully moved through the rooms and corridors where several young people were laying, sitting, standing all partaking in a variety of activities that Harry tried not to focus on as he started up the stairs.

 

A kissing couple at the top careened into him and he stumbled into the first room on his left, his breath catching at the sight of Louis, small and sleeping right there in the dark.

 

"I found you," he smiled to himself, un-pocketing his hand to crouch and nudge him gently. "Louis...Lou...it's Harry..."

 

"Fuck off Zayn," Louis swatted his hand away.

 

"It's me, Harry," he repeated. "Wake up, I need to speak with you..."

 

Louis blinked his eyes open slowly, rolling onto his back. He startled when he recognised the figure beside his bed.

 

"Harry, what the fuck?" He hissed.

 

Harry couldn't help the way his heart sank a bit.

 

"I know, I'm sorry," he apologised. "It's just that you keep sneaking out of class before I have a chance to talk to you and-"

 

"Fuck, you need to get out of here," Louis cut over him, scrabbling out from under his meagre covers.

 

He was wearing a vest and some boxers, far too cold in the room but Harry wondered if he even had enough clothes to wear at night. He frowned, straightening slowly as Louis dressed brusquely.

 

"Come on," Louis grabbed his hand and tugged, thundering down the stairs which Harry practically tumbled down, shouting sorry to the couple kissing who he inadvertently shunted back.

 

"God, are you crazy?" Louis was asking as he twisted and turned around the corridors, dragging Harry behind. "Did you want to get killed tonight or was this just some weird kick for you?"

 

"Louis, no!" Harry defended, shocked. "Nobody here wants me dead...why would I come here with the thought it was for novelty?" He added. "I came here to find you."

 

"Don't come here again," Louis warned as they finally made it outside and Louis was about the breathe out in relief when Zayn blocked the path in front of them.

 

"Princess twinkle-toes," the Asian lad greeted Harry. "Louis, thought you'd got rid of him?" He added.

 

Harry blinked, trying not to feel the shard of pain that lanced his chest.

 

"He's paying me, alright?" Louis lied quickly to save face. "And he doesn't choke me on his dick which is always a bonus..."

 

Harry turned his head to stare at Louis, horrified.

 

Zayn just chuckled though, drawing from his cigarette.

 

"Alright go fuck the daisy queen," Zayn allowed, turning sideways to give them passage. "Give him one from me, eh?" The other lad added as they passed.

 

Louis screwed his eyes shut and begged himself not to react.

 

When they'd walked a little while, Harry changed direction and told Louis he'd parked his car. Louis realised they were still holding hands, that Harry hadn't let go. He looked down, wondering why it felt normal, almost.

 

"You like lying don't you," Harry observed.

 

Louis rolled his eyes.

 

"Sometimes it's needed." he stated.

 

"Really? Zayn needed to think you're my prostitute?"

 

Louis got into the big car and strapped himself in as Harry started it up, pulling out into the road.

 

"I said that to protect you," Louis mused. "If you'd rather get beaten to a pulp next time, let me know..."

 

"Then just tell him I'm your boyfriend," Harry argued. "It seemed a decent enough lie to tell my mother."

 

Louis' lips pursed thoughtfully.

 

"You think my friends will honestly believe a guy like you is interested in me?" Louis challenged, shaking his head. "All guys like you want is a pretty little guy to give good head."

 

Harry shot him a dark look.

 

"You don't..?"

 

Louis shrugged.

 

"Not now. I switched to stealing cars to make my money."

 

Harry sighed, feeling a headache coming on. But he wasn't going to win this argument.

 

"Will you come back to my place for a bit?" He asked instead.

 

Louis sank back into the chair with a nod.

 

Harry took it as a small victory.

 

//

 

Louis kind of ate a lot. Harry had to keep making him food, had to keep making pots of tea. Louis took over in the end, sniffing out a packet of chocolate digestives that Harry didn't even know he had.

 

He momentarily wondered if his mother had hidden them there on her last visit.

 

"So," Louis curled into the end seat of the sofa while Harry took the opposite end. "What did you want to talk about, Harold?"

 

Harry smiled faintly to himself.

 

"My mum wants to invite you to lunch on Sunday," Harry said then. "I'm not to go without you, apparently."

 

Louis choked on his biscuit and coughed out a rainfall of crumbs. Harry had to shift down the sofa to pat him on the back.

 

"Wow," Louis mused. "Your mum kinda loves me."

 

"My mum loves everyone," Harry supplied quickly before Louis got a big head.

 

"Unlike your dad," Louis snorted.

 

Harry sighed.

 

"I know. He's-"

 

"I'll come," Louis answered then, nodding, nibbling on his biscuit as he wormed his toes under Harry's thigh. They were cold and Harry gave him a sideways glance.

 

"I was afraid you'd say that," Harry mused.

 

"What?" Louis defended. "What's the worst that can happen?"

 

Harry arched a brow.

 

"Oh I don't know...how about my mother telling you I'm a virgin and you telling my father the intricacies of anal-fingering?" He suggested as a starting point.

 

Louis blinked, wiggling his toes, his biscuit posed next to his cup for dipping.

 

"It doesn't bother me, you know." Louis said. "That you've...you know...not done stuff before."

 

Harry looked away, gritting his teeth.

 

"It bothers _me_."

 

"Why?" Louis asked leaning forward and having to transfer his feet from under Harry's thigh to between them, settling them in the hot pool of his lap.

 

Harry rolled his eyes and fell back with a plump sigh. He fixed his glasses.

 

"It just reminds me how much I've missed out on," Harry described gently. "How much my father stopped me from experiencing."

 

Louis was shaking his head.

 

"Better too slow than too fast," he argued. "You never get those moments back. Better to have nice memories."

 

Harry wanted to ask him a hundred questions about that but he just stared at him instead.

 

"So you'll come on Sunday?"

 

Louis hummed as he chewed on his now-dipped biscuit, flexing his toes against the inner side of Harry's other thigh.

 

"Free food," he nodded.

 

Harry couldn't help his smile, nestling back into the seat. If Louis curled up closer and fell asleep on his shoulder then nobody needed to know.

 

//

 

The atmosphere was strained to say the least.

 

Apparently Robin had felt it necessary to invite another guest to lunch.

 

That guest just happened to be a twenty-five-year old male with a degree in Astronomy and a favour for men. He just happened to be single, successful and a millionaire. Harry should have seen this coming from a mile off but what made it all the worse was that he and Louis weren't even dating. They weren't really anything- bar the intimate encounter in the club.

 

Harry stayed very quiet during lunch, keeping a casual arm around Louis whenever possible.

 

Louis had-spectacularly, perhaps- behaved at his absolute best, making the odd disguised scathing remark to make Harry smirk now and then.

 

When lunch was over Robin had sent Louis to the kitchen with Anne while Harry was to show Ethan the gardens. He led the scholar out into the warm sunshine with a rueful lift of his brow.

 

"I'm sorry I hope my father hasn't given you the wrong impression of me," Harry apologised.

 

"Quite the opposite, Harold. You're every bit as enchanting as your father had you described..."

 

Harry gave him a bemused look. Hearing his proper name from Ethan's lips didn't sound right, somehow.

 

"You do realise that I'm-" Harry swallowed, not wanting to lie outright.

 

"Taken?" Ethan posed. "Your father suggested you might not be as enamoured as you'd have everyone believe..."

 

Harry sighed, flicking his eyes around the gardens.

 

"Truth is, Ethan, you're not my type," Harry offered softly, sadly.

 

He had finally worked out what he liked in a guy and Ethan just wasn't it.

 

"Oh," the other man smiled  a little. "Well that is something of an issue that can't be resolved," he admitted.

 

Harry nodded, smiling back at him.

 

"You understand then?"

 

Ethan closed a hand around his bicep.

 

"Of course. Thank you for being honest with me."

 

Harry smiled, his dimples lengthening in his cheeks. He was about to make a joke about being set up when the clack of the back door brought his gaze up and Louis was stood there with his hands in his slacks pockets, an unreadable expression on his face.

 

"Hey," Harry greeted with a dimpled grin. "Want to see the lake?"

 

Louis' gaze shifted from Harry to Ethan.

 

"I wouldn't want to interrupt anything," he mused.

 

Harry stepped toward him to explain but Ethan moved first, patting Louis' shoulder as he paused by him.

 

"You're safe, don't worry," Ethan commented before slipping inside.

 

Louis stared at Harry.

 

"Is that your type then? Toffee-nosed star-gazer?"

 

Harry snorted.

 

"Does he look like he fits my bill?" He mused of the guy he'd had taken a shine to in the club, the small fairy-like man.

 

Louis pressed his lips together.

 

"No, guess we're still trying to find your Tinkerbell aren't we?"

 

Harry tilted his head, relaxing his posture. He swung his arm forward, laying out his palm.

 

"Can I show you something?"

 

Louis looked at his hand, then at him.

 

Harry arched a brow, pursing his lips.

 

"Please, Lou?"

 

Louis sighed, ignoring his hand to brush past him but when Harry caught up, Louis grabbed his hand after-all, making Harry smile shyly to himself.

 

//

 

"You've never...?"

 

Harry shook his head, biting his lip.

 

"But _everybody's_ kissed," Louis argued.

 

"Some of the guys in the club kissed me but it wasn't-"

 

"Shh," Louis cut him off, bracing his face with both hands, his thumbs trailing tenderly over his cheeks. "I don't mind being your first, stop asking," he said.

 

Harry nodded, crowding Louis against the tree they'd found to hide behind. Harry tilted his head awkwardly, his hot breath puffing out onto Louis' lips while he over-thought it, beginning to doubt himself.

 

"Harold, close your eyes," Louis instructed and Harry did so, leaning against him a bit as he began to relax. "Better, okay..."

 

Louis shifted to fit against him, placing small kisses at the corners of his lips.

 

"Just imagine I'm your little fairy guy at the club," Louis murmured. "And you want to kiss me, yeah?"

 

Harry frowned. That's wasn't entirely accurate. It was _Louis_ he wanted to kiss but his conscience wouldn't let him so he had to make up these ridiculous scenarios to justify it.

 

"Right okay..."

 

"So, I'm nibbling," Louis grazed his teeth gently against Harry's lips. "That's a go sign, Harold..."

 

So Harry went. He opened his mouth, leaned in harder and slanted their lips together, sucking softly. It was more than a brush of lips, more a clumsy attempt at kissing Louis' lower lip but it worked somehow because Louis folded his arms right around Harry's neck and kissed him back and then it was happening and it was real.

 

"Hmm..." Harry put out  a hand against the tree to steady them when they began to over-balance to the right, their bodies surging together as their lips pressed and swathed together in some magical dance.

 

Two insistent hands against his chest had him stumbling back. He blinked big, blown eyes at Louis.

 

"Erm...your, er-" He pointed to his right and Harry looked, finding Robin there.

 

He startled.

 

"Christ, Dad, what're you doing?" He asked breathily, slipping his arms around Louis to keep him there.

 

Louis drummed his fingers idly against Harry's chest with a bright, innocent smile.

 

"I thought you'd want to know that Ethan is leaving," Robin supplied tersely. "I thought you might like to bid him farewell. Evidently I was wrong," his father added with a sigh before he turned to stalk up the garden back to the house.

 

Harry frowned but didn't bother to go after him. His gaze flicked back to Louis.

 

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"

 

"Is that the time?" Louis interrupted him gently with a sneaky grin. "I think we should go back to the house don't you?"

 

Harry nodded.

 

"Yes, I think that's the agreeable course of action."

 

"Hm," Louis hummed short and bright, wavering for a second.

 

He surged up onto the fronts of his feet, pressing a kiss to Harry's cheek and flicking his long hair.

 

"Come on Harold," he called in his sing-song voice as he bounced away. "Don't want to keep Ethan waiting..."

 

//

 

Harry carefully avoided Louis' eyes the next time he attended class.

 

Louis could tell because even when he slid his eyes across the room to check on the bespectacled man, Harry was evidently looking anywhere but in his direction.

 

Louis slid onto a stool beside Swann and he smirked as her eyes found him.

 

"Why is he ignoring you?" She asked him.

 

They've been okay since the passing out incident. Louis never blamed Swann in the first place for his hospital attendance and anyway, it had resulted in Harry coming to look for him, something he wasn't exactly mad about.

 

Louis hadn't let himself think too hard about what was developing between him and the long haired art-teacher and he wasn't about to start now.

 

"I kissed him," Louis admitted with a smug grin.

 

Swann's brows lifted and her lips moved into a wide, surprised smile.

 

"You did _what_?" She whispered excitedly.

 

Louis rolled his eyes and arched a brow at her.

 

"Yeah. I guess he's regretting it," Louis added with a slight mar to his previous smile.

 

He guessed he didn't quite match up to Harry's perfect man, that bloody Tinkerbell from the club. Louis frowned and sighed, shifting back to his own canvas as a heaviness settled over him.

 

He'd never be Harry's Tinkerbell. It was obvious really. Here he was, considered dregs of society dressing in hoodies and sweats while Harry-Harold- wore nice, tight jeans, pretty boots and even prettier shirts. The fact his hair was longer than most women's was beside the point.

 

"Everyone okay?" Harry's low, enquiring voice called.

 

Louis had sketched out his painting and began mixing a palette.

 

"I need some help," Swann stuck her arm up, causing Louis to glare at her.

 

She merely side-eyed him and smiled sweetly as Harry loped over, the khaki green of his semi-sheer shirt dotted with embroidered flowers.

 

"Yes, Swann?" Harry leaned over her shoulder to check her canvas.

 

Louis' eyes seemed to get distracted studying Harry's back. or more accurately the skin peeking through his shirt. The way his spine looked elegant and not bony like his own. The way a small, tiny really, pudge of fat pushed out at his hip.

 

Louis knew he had a V. He'd seen it through the fabric already. He knew Harry's belly muscles were firm, tight even. He knew his pecs were defined, that his shoulders were strong.

 

He didn't need to know that Harry had dimples at the bottom of his spine, too.

 

Swann's voice stirred him from his appraisal.

 

"I can't seem to get this part right..."

 

Harry was explaining it to her, giving tips on methods to use to highlight her sunset. He didn't expect Harry to come and hover behind him and he hadn't fully realised Harry had until-

 

"Nice composition."

 

Louis startled and almost streaked black across his canvas.

 

"Thanks," he said back, lost for what else to say since it was clear Harry had been avoiding him up until that moment.

 

"Um...do you have a moment after class?" Harry murmured, biting his lower lip.

 

Louis shouldn't have looked. He could remember nibbling the damn thing himself only days ago. It looked soft and swollen.

 

"Sure," he smiled wanly. "Anything for you, dear Harold..."

 

He thought he heard Harry sigh as he moved away but he couldn't be sure.

 

//

 

"So," Harry began, having seated them at opposite sides of one of the low tables in the break out area of the reception.

 

"So..." Louis pursed his lips.

 

Harry frowned, licking his lips and twisting a bit of his hair. He had it in that half up, half down style, his glasses slipping down his nose only to be shunted back up gently.

 

"I could um...I could get into a lot of bother if-" He swallowed. "If we, um..."

 

Louis fought down the urge to tease him for using the word _bother_.

 

"If we get involved," Louis supplied for him and lifted his brows when Harry finally looked at him.

 

"Yes," he agreed with a sigh, his lashes flickering as he tried to maintain eye contact.

 

Louis shrugged.

 

"Then we don't get involved," he broached.

 

Harry's brows furrowed, as if he was thinking ' _aren't we already?_ ' but he was afraid to say it. Louis felt bad for a second.

 

"Right?" He added softly, pressing his lips together.

 

Harry blinked.

 

"Right," he nodded slowly, pinching his lower lip between thumb and forefinger. "I mean not that we-"

 

He trailed off, forcing a tight smile.

 

"Let's face it, we're not exactly from the same world are we?" Louis posed.

 

Harry's mortified look wasn't what Louis was really aiming for. He was more referring to himself and his vagabond lifestyle; not something he believed Harry could possibly want or need in his own life.

 

"No, I don't believe we are," he resigned himself to that fact quietly.

 

Louis rubbed his palms together nervously.

 

"I've got to go," he stated then, into the awkward silence.

 

Harry stared at him like Louis was leaving; never to return.

 

"Oh. Okay...I'll um...see you tomorrow?"

 

Louis nodded, standing up.

 

"Laters, baby," he winked and swaggered out.

 

//

 

 

It was a dark tunnel that lead through town and Louis shouldn't be there.

 

He absolutely should not be there with Zayn and the lads. He definitely should not be holding a spray paint can.

 

But he was. Louis was weak is the thing.

 

He was caught between a hard place and a rock. If he didn't roll with these boys he automatically became their prey. He'd also become homeless and hungry.

 

So it was almost his only choice. Almost because he knew deep down that if he really needed it then Harry would help him out.

 

But Harry was supposed to be his mentor and he had already fucked that up.

 

"Lou!" Zayn's voice was sharp, pulling him away from his task and then there was thundering feet, too many of them to escape.

 

"What...fuck!" Louis' arms were forced behind him, several uniformed officers storming the tunnel to capture every member of the gang.

 

"Recognise _your_ face," the copper at Louis' shoulder smirked, clicking cuffs into place.

 

Louis swallowed hard. He was going to jail for sure.

 

//

 

He was in his own cell quietly fiddling with his fingers as he sat sideways across the bed, his hood pulled right over his head.

 

When the door bolt shifted he looked up, tired and resigned. He didn't know what to expect as he was led through gated corridors to interview rooms but he did know whatever this meeting was about the outcome will not be good.

 

He bowed his head, small feet shuffling into the room; too ashamed to look up.

 

"Sit here," the escorting officer commanded and Louis did sit, taking a moment to accept his fate. He had to take responsibility for his actions and his failings. He should never be afraid of that.

 

Resolutely he looked up.

 

Sergeant Cambridge was sitting opposite him with an unimpressed look upon his face. It made Louis' insides twist. And then his gaze drifted to the person beside the Sergeant, wearing a women's yoked white shirt and a pensive expression.

 

"Harold?" He squinted to make sure. 

 

His hair was in a bun, his hands clasped nervously in his lap and his glasses looked smart somehow. He looked business-like. Louis' mouth was suddenly dry.

 

"Mr. Styles has come to vouch for you," The Sergeant explained briefly causing Louis to flick his gaze back to Harry with a confused frown.

 

"I don't-"

 

"We were quite ready to arrest you for vandalism." Sergeant Cambridge began. "We've already processed paperwork for your peers for the same charge." He added.

 

"Okay," Louis nodded, flushing a bit in embarrassment. 

 

He wasn't supposed to be here, _they weren't supposed to be having this conversation_. Louis had promised to behave. He'd promised to do the art scheme and better himself. He cringed at his own lies; at his own weakness.

 

"However we are not charging _you_ with vandalism," the Sergeant continued.

 

Louis felt his guts twist and turn. What did they want him to do instead?

 

"Harold Styles the Third has offered Informal Guardianship of you." The Sergeant explained. "It's a rather Americanised concept but apparently, it _is_ valid under European Law..."

 

The way the Sergeant arched his brow made it clear he had to bend a few rules to get Harry's proposal to stick in this humble British Police Station where he was sure they were more used to going by the book. Louis can't help but stare. Hard. His eyes started watering and his throat bobbed to swallow something that was stuck in his throat.

 

"We have agreed to release you under Mr. Styles' responsibility and the previous Community Art scheme will become invalid."

 

 _Invalid?_ Louis felt the blood drain from his face.

 

"But-"

 

"Mr Styles will provide you with a place to stay and your meals. All you have to do is stay out of trouble, Master Tomlinson. Do you think you can manage that?"

 

Louis stared at Harry instead. _Why?_ He wanted to ask. Why was he doing this? Why was he risking his own reputation to give Louis a chance he didn't deserve?

 

"I can try," he offered to the Sergeant.

 

The older man nodded and scraped back his chair. 

 

"We'll complete the paperwork and then get you out of those cuffs," he mused.

 

Louis looked over his shoulder as he was led away only catching Harry's eye as he twisted out of his seat. Louis shook his head and let himself be led back to his cell.

 

Harry had to be completely insane there was no other explanation for it.

 

//

 

Louis was sullen and quiet.

 

Harry kept glancing over in the cherokee to check on him and Louis just kept shaking his head.

 

"Are you alright?" Harry asked eventually.

 

He might have certain inappropriate feelings for Louis but essentially he just wanted to help him.

 

Louis sighed.

 

"I could get you in a lot of trouble," he mused. "A lot of _bother_ ," he added softly.

 

Harry smirked.

 

"You could." He agreed.

 

"Why would you-" Louis stopped short. "I think you're crazy just for the record..."

 

Harry nodded.

 

"Look...my parents are coming by tonight and I promised them dinner," Harry said then quickly. He licked his lips. "Let's just pretend I invited you too and we can work out the details of the arrangement later."

 

"Arrangement?" Louis arched a brow tilting his head in the hood of his jacket. "What, you want something out of this Harold? A good blow perhaps?" 

 

Louis didn't miss the way Harry's grip meandered on the steering wheel.

 

"I didn't mean it like that I just-"

 

"What about we do it while your dad's in the other room?" Louis teased.

 

Harry shot him an aggrieved look and Louis rolled his eyes, his fingertips brushing over his lips softly. He felt something settle uneasily in his chest. 

 

"I didn't mean to get caught." He said then, his voice tight.

 

Harry hummed.

 

"I'm sure you didn't."

 

"You don't get it," he added frowning, hiding in his hood. "You don't get what it's like trying to survive."

 

"You're right, I don't," Harry pulled up outside the art centre releasing his belt and looking over at Louis.

 

Louis closed his eyes and avoided the intensity of Harry's gaze.

 

"I know what you must think of me and-"

 

"Do you?" A deep voice interrupted, a warm hand spreading on his thigh.

 

Louis opened his eyes. He reached up to find the elastic in Harry's hair and he gently unwound it with his fingers.

 

He watched Harry swallow, shivering as his hair fell down to brush his neck. Louis let his fingers untangle the mess of curls that fell down onto his chest.

 

And Harry's hand was still on his thigh. Warm. Nice.

 

"What do I think of you?" Harry asked.

 

His free hand rose to gently push back Louis' hood and it was like they were disrobing each other somehow.

 

His thumb gently pressed into the base of Louis' throat as he twisted his head free of the hood, shivering as Harry's digit worked upwards.

 

 "That I'm-" Louis swallowed again as Harry's thumb brushed over his Adams apple.

 

His lashes fluttered to his cheeks and in that moment his bravado was gone. The man who had kissed Harry bravely and brazenly brought him to his peak was MIA.

 

He could only make a soft wanting sound in his throat.

 

"You're...?" Harry prompted as his thumb drifted over his jaw and glided delicately into the hollow of his cheek.

 

Harry had no idea what he was doing but it thrilled him to know Louis didn't care. Louis' muttered " _fuck_ " was soft; followed by a strangled growl giving him the permission he needed to lean right across the console to kiss Louis fully on the mouth

 

He slid their lips together and hummed in satisfaction of that meeting, their tongues shyly venturing into exploration.

 

When Harry's hand slipped behind him to bring him closer Louis wanted to crawl across the car to straddle him but he broke away panting telling Harry to _get in the house_ _now_.

 

They both stumbled but Louis took control once they got inside and the way he pushed Harry against the inner side of the door made it jangle.

 

Harry only kissed him harder with a whine and Louis had to get to his knees before either of them thought about it too hard.

 

He pressed his hand to front of Harry's tight jeans earning a strained noise from Harry's lips and push from Harry's hips against his hand.

 

"This is ok, right?" He asked.

 

Harry nodded and reached down as if to undo his own trousers but Louis merely smirked, pressing those big hot hands to his shoulders.

 

"This is all on me, pretty one," he murmured.

 

Hearing Harry make sounds at the slightest touch should have warned Louis that he wouldn't last long.

 

Two strokes with his hand and a few licks over his hardness wasn't exactly what he was expecting as the sum total of his blow-job though.

 

He was in bemused shock as Harry's dick slipped from his lips as he came; sticky seed falling mostly on his chin and cheek.

 

He looked up trying to record the ecstatic sound ripped from Harry's throat.

 

"Lou...Louis, oh god...We have to- my parents wil-"

 

The robust rap of the knocker against the front door startled them both, Harry falling forward and Louis falling back; his cheek smudged by Harry's naked (now limp) dick.

 

"Sorry," Harry winced, one handedly dragging his underwear up while reaching to assist Louis. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

 

Louis gracefully got up from the floor and brushed himself down slightly, wiping the sticky residue from his face onto the heel of his hand.

 

"You better freshen up and get some dinner on," Louis commented airily on the arrival of Harry's parents.

 

A second knock sounded right behind them and Louis looked over himself with a bit of a wince and a resigned shrug about to answer the door when Harry suddenly wrapped him into his arms and kissed him hotly on the mouth.

 

"Thank you," he whispered, kissing him again more tenderly. 

 

Louis smiled brightly and stepped back, his hands shaking slightly as he opened the front door.

 

He just hoped Harry's dad wouldn't notice the white stain on the back of his thigh where he'd wiped Harry's errant sperm. 

 

//

 

"It's lovely to see you again Louis..." Anne was far more welcoming than Robin who scowled at Louis in between just plain ignoring him.

 

"Sorry we're not quite ready," he apologised. "It's my fault Harry was late back to prep dinner..."

 

"Oh why's that?" Anne asked avidly.

 

Louis smiled innocently.

 

"I was doing a painting project across town and he insisted on picking me up."

 

Robin arched a brow.

 

"I'm just going to change into something else," Louis excused himself from the living room once he'd set up their guests with drinks.

 

//

 

"You didn't think to tell us you were inviting him?" 

 

Robin was leaning over the kitchen island with a wine in his hand.

 

Harry self consciously ran a hand through his now-wild hair. His glasses were smudged and no matter how many times he wiped them off there was still a murky patch that he was too afraid to investigate for fear of incrimination.

 

"It wasn't planned," Harry promised. "I didn't want him walking all the way across town so I went to pick him up. I didn't realise it had gotten so late."

 

"Darling I think it's lovely," Anne cupped his cheek and he flushed.

 

"I know you don't approve, Dad but you don't approve of anyone in my life who's not female..."

 

"He's a bum who's clearly using you for what little money you have acquired and when you work it out I shall remind you that I told you so..."

 

"Robin!" Anne hissed with shock smacking his hand that lay on the counter.

 

The room turned static as Harry's gaze shifted to the doorway. Louis had reappeared with clean soft hair parted boyishly and wearing one of his pale blue shirts with some of his jeans. They were rolled at the ankle and loose on his hips but Harry thought he looked incredible.

 

He'd also heard every word his father had just uttered.

 

"Good evening," Louis clapped his hands together sharply. "Again." He added with a smile.

 

Anne moved toward him and linked arms giving Louis the perfect opportunity to escort her to the dining table.

 

Harry had thrown together Parma wrapped chicken with mushroom sauce and mashed potatoes.

 

"What is it you do again, Louis?" Robin asked as he seated himself.

 

Louis smiled sweetly.

 

"I bum off Harry of course..."

 

Harry choked while Robin almost had a fit.

 

Louis smirked until Harry's accusing glare landed on him.

 

"I'm still trying to work it out," he added in a softer voice. "You know...what I want to do with my life and everything..."

 

Anne cupped his hand.

 

"I'm sure you'll work it out soon. And Harry's a very kind person. He'll take good care of you until you've made your decision."

 

"He _is_ very kind," Louis echoed with a husky warm voice and a purse of his lips that couldn't be mistaken in the innuendo. "I owe him so much already."

 

Harry waved a hand about.

 

"What's important is you finding your niche," he said. 

 

"What's important is being independent," Robin accused. "And not leeching off your friends..."

 

Anne gave Robin a warning look but it was Harry that stepped up to the table to respond, dumping the dinner plates heavily in front of their guests.

 

"He's not just a friend, Dad," Harry stated flatly. "Louis is my boyfriend."

 

//

 

How were they kissing again?

 

Licks of Louis' tongue insistently into his mouth, their lips pressing for pressure, their bodies curling amongst cushions and clothing strewn on the sofa.

 

Harry was meant to be _stopping_ this; he was meant to be the _responsible_ one.

 

But-

 

"Mmmm..."

 

Louis tasted so good.

 

//

 

"So..."

 

Louis was a bit breathless as he stared into Harry's desire darkened eyes; his arms all but wrapped around Harry's head and shoulders.

 

Harry's hair was tangled among Louis' tanned limbs and his glasses-he wasn't even sure why he was still wearing them.

 

He squeezed his arms around Louis' waist, a blush stained high on his cheeks.

 

"I'll try harder next time I promise..."

 

Harry bit his lip guiltily. If he had any hope of a future with Louis he had to stop coming so damn fast.

 

"I didn't even get my hand on you," Louis lamented with a warm teasing tone.

 

Harry ducked his head pressing his lips to the front of Louis' ribs.

 

"I'm sorry," he mumbled lowly, twitching his hips because-actually he was still dressed from the waist down and it was wet and uncomfortable in his boxers now.

 

The second he'd got Louis topless he'd been unable to control himself, rutting against his thick thigh until he'd gotten his release and he'd thought Louis was into it, he thought undoing Louis' (his) jeans and gently stroking him off was good enough. 

 

Louis chuckled softly untangling some of his mane.

 

"Why're you sorry? As long as you enjoyed yourself..."

 

"Did you?" Harry asked him seriously with an intense gaze.

 

Louis smiled at him and placed a kiss to his lips.

 

"Absolutely."

 

Louis rolled up off the bed before Harry could get a look at his expression and he chased Louis' move by propping on his elbow.

 

"If you ever- you know," he shrugged.

 

Louis half turned, his beautiful naked back twisted. Harry let his eyes graze over his torso.

 

"If I ever what, Harold?" Louis smirked. His lips were pink and swollen and Harry rubbed at a patch of hot skin on his own face where Louis' stubble had burned him.

 

_He absolutely did not imagine that burn occurring in another more intimate place._

 

"If you ever don't want to," Harry managed. "Please don't feel like...like you have to," he described.

 

Louis turned fully and pulled on his t-shirt, re-arranging himself in his jeans slightly before he walked barefoot back towards the sofa.

 

Harry sat up in anticipation and Louis leaned over him, cupping his cheek and kissing his forehead.

 

The tenderness of the gesture caught him by surprise. Whatever he'd imagined Louis' side of this tryst to be...he hadn't imagined _that_.

 

"Contrary to what your father thinks I'm not into screwing guys for their money," Louis explained as he leaned back. "I've made some poor life choices but who I've slept with is not one of them."

 

Harry's brow rose slowly; intrigued.

 

"Oh? Ever slept with a posh boy before?"

 

Louis laughed hard at Harry's question which signalled his answer as a definite 'no'.

 

Harry wore his sheepishly proud smile for the next three days.

 

//

 

Louis was the epitome of well-behaved in the classes following his last capture.

 

He fetched whatever was asked of him, was polite with all the students, cleaned and tidied and helped out wordlessly when required. Harry didn't want to feel like Louis' spirit had been crushed but something didn't feel right, somewhere.

 

He was quiet around the flat, sneaking about almost stealth-style and keeping well out of Harry's way which was-

 

 _Well_.

 

Harry's lips turned down a bit as Louis grabbed his dinner plate and scurried off to his room instead of sitting with Harry at the table.

 

"Hey," Harry worked up the courage to say something, turning with his own plate and an aggrieved expression.

 

Louis had paused mid-way across the room and Harry didn't know what to do now he had Louis' attention.

 

"Would you like to eat with me?" He asked, rather formally. "At the table perhaps?"

 

Louis shifted, half looking like he wanted to bolt and half resigned to joining him. He saw Louis sigh and then sit opposite him, staring at his plate.

 

"What's wrong?" Harry asked outright.

 

Louis looked up, blue eyes wide. He grimaced.

 

"Zayn got bail."

 

Harry sucked in a breath.

 

"Oh..."

 

"He knows you cut me a deal," Louis added. "Sent me a lovely little threat message a few days ago..."

 

Louis' lip curled and Harry frowned, flicking his eyes over Louis' curled- up form.

 

"What did he say?"

 

Louis mumbled that it didn't matter but Harry wasn't happy with that response.

 

"Louis...show me," he put his hand out for Louis' phone.

 

To his surprise, Louis gave it to him. Harry unlocked the device and was firstly surprised at the screensaver on the phone's background. It was a picture of Harry from yesterday's art class when he'd been wearing a candy pink and baby blue striped shirt with his white jeans, his hair tethered by strands pulled at the temples back to the crown, messy and tumbling curls not disguising the dimples carving in his cheeks, his glasses not hiding the light in his eyes from smiling over something.

 

Louis fidgeted when he noticed Harry staring at the picture so he accessed the messages quickly and took a deep breath to avoid analysing the picture too much.

 

_Better tell your precious Princess to watch out._

Harry blinked at the words printed there, under Zayn's contact.

 

"It's not like I got him into trouble," Harry considered.

 

Louis arched a brow.

 

"He's just pissed he hasn't got a friend like you," Louis mused. "A _boyfriend_ ," he hedged quietly, reminding Harry of his little white lie to his dad.

 

He flushed instantly, assuming Louis had disregarded that comment and not expecting him to bring it up again.

 

"Oh god, I'm sorry," he dropped the phone gently and covered his face with his hands, covering his smile more than anything. "I don't know why I said that, it was-"

 

Louis giggled and tucked into his food, now suitably cooled to eat. Harry slowly followed suit, flicking him glances.

 

"I'm sorry that I'm causing an issue for you with your friends," Harry said when they finished their meal. "It was never my intention to complicate things, I just didn't want you to go to jail..."

 

Louis stared at him.

 

"You have a lot of faith in me, Harold..."

 

Harry nodded; a little twitch of a smile on his lips.

 

"Maybe. You kind of...I feel good when I'm in with you," he shrugged.

 

"I bet you do," Louis teased.

 

Harry bit his lip. He wondered if Louis felt like the balance was tipped in his favour here, if he felt like Harry was demanding things and not giving in return. He pushed his chair back and got up, walking the small distance to where Louis was sat.

 

Harry tipped his head to the side, gesturing for Louis to follow.

 

Louis placed a hand to Harry's lower back after rising and called his name softly.

 

"Harry..."

 

Harry walked through the apartment until they were in Louis' room- the guest room- and then he turned and curled his arms around Louis' small waist, hitching him up and curling low to correlate their height difference as he kissed him, smudging their lips together to suck on Louis' lower one, making the smaller man moan into his mouth.

 

Louis tried to take over the control of the embrace, twirling Harry with the intent to drop him on the bed but Harry walked him backwards until he fell and then he was looking at Harry with a curious smile.

 

"What..?"

 

Harry settled on his knees, undoing Louis' jeans boldly with only a faint quiver in his hands. He was pressing back the unzipped flaps of his jeans when Louis' hands wrapped around his wrists gently, stilling his progress.

 

Harry looked at him.

 

Louis' thumb brushed over the bone in his wrist.

 

"Are you sure about this, H?"

 

Harry nodded, slipping his glasses off. He looked around with an out-of-focus squint for somewhere to place them and Louis' fingers gently took possession, placing the frames up on the nightstand.

 

"How blind are you?" Louis asked as Harry fidgeted to get comfortable.

 

Harry sucked his lip.

 

"Everything is blurry," he admitted.

 

Louis chuckled and flopped back, hitching down his jeans and boxers in one swoop, lifting his hips off the bed to free his body of the clothes.

 

Harry leaned up to gently tug off his t-shirt too, his big eyes trailing over Louis' naked body slowly.

 

"Like what you see?" Louis asked in a whisper and his words were cocky but the quiver in his hands told Harry a whole other story but he was a fuzzy tan blob to Harry without his glasses.

 

He placed three soft, loving kisses against Louis' bare belly, thumbing at his biceps where he laid back and then he refused to get any more distracted and he focused on the prize.

 

He wasn't very good at first, he was clumsy and there was a bit too much saliva but he soon learned, he accustomed to the rhythmic stroke of Louis' fingers against his scalp and the slight gasps he gave out, his hips pushing Louis' heat into his mouth followed by a groan of pleasure.

 

It took longer for Louis to release, much longer than Harry's current rate and his jaw was aching by the time Louis was cupping the back of his head with fast gasps of _'oh yes!_ ' and ' _Harry, fuck!_ '

 

Harry was shocked by the taste of Louis' release, swallowing the strange liquid down with a bemused expression. Louis was staring at him in awe.

 

"Zayn was right, you _are_ a Princess," Louis wrapped his hand in Harry's long, long hair.

 

Harry smirked and got up from the floor, not stretching his limbs fully before he stumbled and fell onto the bed. Louis quickly pushed him back and straddled his waist, cupping his cheeks. His thumbs slipped into the creases that carved into Harry's cheeks.

 

"You do realise you're just a blob right now?" Harry smiled.

 

Louis reached across for Harry's glasses, unfolding the legs and slipping them carefully into place.

 

"Better?" He asked once Harry could see.

 

Harry nodded, his hands lifting from the bed to curl caringly around Louis' bare thighs. It was quite something seeing him naked in his lap; hair ruffled and lips licked pink.

 

He leaned up to kiss him, pulling his small body deeper into his lap so he could wrap his arms around him, holding him tight. Louis squirmed a bit when his dick became interested again, twitching between them. He leaned back with an eye roll, falling back on the bed where he reached for his boxers and tugged them on with a twist of his lips.

 

Harry nudged up next to him pressing soft lips to his outer bicep.

 

"Let's take it slow?" Louis murmured, curling his arm around Harry's shoulder so Harry settled into him, nosing at his neck where he pressed his lips tenderly after.

 

He felt Harry nod and his heavy weight press into him as he drifted into sleep.

 

//

 

 _So much for acting professional,_ Harry mused as he woke up and stretched in a bed that also contained a small, fluffy-haired criminal.

 

He didn't wait for Louis to wake up, he did the right thing and exited the scene of his guilt as quickly as possible, deciding a shower and breakfast was the only way to go.

 

He was a man of morals, a man who had taken Louis in and was trying to provide him with a brighter future. He was also a man who was weak to his desire. He knew, deep down, that Louis would never be interested in a man like himself. He also knew that he was struggling to resist the attraction he felt towards him.

 

" _There_ you are."

 

Louis' bright, if accusing, voice called across the kitchen.

 

Harry turned with a rueful smile.

 

"Here I am."

 

"And there was me thinking you were trying to sneak out and making things awkward," Louis teased boldly as he ventured into the kitchen to set about making tea.

 

He'd unearthed Harry's teapot from the high cupboard within minutes.

 

"I was supposed to be bringing you home to put you on the straight and narrow," Harry mused.

 

Louis shrugged a bit looking over his shoulder to cast eyes over Harry's dressed form.

 

Louis was in a vest and a pair of Harry's pyjama trousers by the look of things, rolled endearingly at his delicate ankles.

 

Harry had picked cherry red jeans and a sheer rose print shirt.

 

"I'll never be straight and pretty sure no one ever called me narrow," Louis arched a cheeky brow and smirked.

 

Harry felt his cheeks warm. Louis was thick, nicely so. He'd had that thick heat on his tongue and it had been incredible. He couldn't help the way his eyes trailed over Louis' form longingly.

 

He sighed.

 

"Is this- I mean..." Harry frowned not wanting to corner Louis into labelling what they were.

 

Louis cleared his throat with something of a bitter smile.

 

"Well Harold we all know that guys like me do not end up with guys like you and let's face it you're new to all this so you should just...you know, see who's out there. I'm sure there's another little pretty Tink that-"

 

Louis was being pulled gently away from the counter, a heavy body pressing into his front and a thigh pushing up between his as lips smudged against his own roughly, slowing to a more gentle drag.

 

He choked out a little noise of surprise, then a hum of agreement as Harry kissed him stupid.

 

"Stop bloody saying I want Tinkerbell," Harry mumbled against his lips as Louis clung to him breathlessly.

 

"Yeah okay...sure Harold..."

 

Harry pulled back a bit, rubbing his thigh gently in the apex of Louis'. Louis tried to pretend like his hips weren't motioning back in a subtle rolling gesture.

 

"And do you really believe that just because I haven't had other men that it makes this any less real?"

 

Harry's question fell unanswered between them as Louis considered an answer. Considered what to do next.

 

"I'm not using you Louis," Harry added. "The same way you told my father you're not using me."

 

"Ah but now you're _keeping_ me so that's kind of a lie and-"

 

Harry kissing him isn't a lie. It's the best kissing Louis has ever taken part in. It's-

 

"Fuck," he broke off as Harry grazed his teeth over his lip but then the taller man started sucking on his skin along his jaw and lower down his neck.

 

He shuffled them to reverse their position, coaxing Harry to sit up on the counter so his long legs could wrap right around Louis' waist and that was going really well until Louis could smell burning.

 

"Shit!" He cursed and dashed for the eggs currently welding to the bottom of the pan Harry had been commandeering.

 

"No!" Harry pouted and jumped off the counter gazing at the mess forlornly. " I was making you breakfast..."

 

Louis' lips flickered, his eyes lighting as he looked into Harry's saddened face.

 

"No bother, Harold. Let me take you to McDonald's instead..." he moved to throw some clothes on.

 

Harry nestled the charred pan in the sink reluctantly.

 

"Ok but I'm paying!" He called into the hallway.

 

Louis reappeared in jeans and a fresh smile.

 

"I was hoping you might say that."

 

//

 

"I've been thinking..." 

 

Louis had eaten two breakfast meals and was onto a muffin. Harry handed him his wallet ages ago to buy whatever he wanted when his first course wasn't satisfactory.

.

"Mm..." He prompted of Louis' words.

 

"I'm quite good at painting and driving..."

 

"You are," Harry nodded his agreement.

 

"I'm sure I can get a job doing either one of those..."

 

"Painting and decorating maybe? Delivery work?"

 

"I've got a meeting with a career sponsor today," he shared then. "They're going to tell me what courses I need to do."

 

Harry found himself smiling.

 

"That's great Louis...that's really great."

 

Louis gave him a shaky smile back. 

 

"Now that I have a fixed abode I can claim for help with my provisions and apparently there's allocated funding for criminals in rehabilitation like me..."

 

Harry looked at him with an expression that suggested he was quite capable of not only providing for Louis in the basic sense of food and care; but also to cover any learning costs he might accrue.

 

Louis had decided right after his meeting with Kate that he wanted to do this his own way. He didn't expect Harry to look so offended by his decision though.

 

"What time is your meeting?" Harry asked fiddling with the wrapper of his half-eaten hash brown. He finished it off to distract himself.

 

"Eleven," Louis confirmed. "I'll be back in time for lunch," he added quickly.

 

Harry leaned back in his seat.

 

"I've got three classes today but I'll get you a key cut so you can come and go as you please..."

 

"I'm not just some kind of alley cat," Louis derided with an eye roll. "I'm not going to take the piss, Harold."

 

Harry was eyeing him with a very small smile.

 

"You kind of are an alley cat..."

 

Louis sniffed.

 

"Like to think I'm more of a Tramp the dog..."

 

Harry smirked.

 

"Only because he's glorified in the movie..."

 

"You're more of the Lady," Louis added seamlessly, flicking his eyes over Harry with an open appreciation. "Posh bit."

 

Harry spluttered;

 

"Posh b-"

 

Louis giggled covering his mouth with a curved hand.

 

"You are, Harold! Try and pretend you aren't!"

 

Harry was about to find about fifty reasons as to why he was nothing like Lady even if half of them were outright lies but then something hit him.

 

"You do realise what this means," he said slowly, his voice deep.

 

Louis lifted his eyebrows in silent prompt.

 

"Lady and Tramp belonged together," he pointed out with a smug little smile. "It didn't matter where they started...they ended up together."

 

When Harry ventured a cautious look at Louis the other man was smiling wide and soft; a bit like a moony grin with fondness in his blue eyes and crinkles right by them.

 

He didn't refute Harry's claim though so Harry counted it as a win.

 

//

 

It was weird still, living with someone who wore tracksuits and backwards caps.

 

It was weird wanting to kiss someone who was almost his exact polar opposite in every way.

 

Harry liked kissing Louis; liked being with him.

 

Louis was learning not to steal things; not to hang out with the wrong crowd and Harry was learning how to be with someone, for real.

 

"I've got an interview up at the Community Centre this morning," Louis leaned against the counter with his cup of tea.

 

Harry-who had been crunching his toast- paused and stared.

 

"You're telling me this _now_?" He accused softly.

 

Louis rolled his eyes with a tiny smirk.

 

"Knew you'd want to take me and stuff," Louis commented with a casual shrug. "Just thought I could do this on my own this time."

 

The reason Harry wanted to take Louis everywhere was because he was scared of what might happen if he didn't. Like Louis might realise that his life with Harry wasn't much better than his life without him and he'd run away to steal cars again.

 

"Alright, I see," Harry nodded, chewing the rest of his mouthful.

 

"Har-old," Louis sang his name warmly, moving towards him where he sat at the table.

 

Louis slid a hand onto his shoulder, depositing his mug on the table-top to grasp Harry's other shoulder.

 

"Come, on, you're not upset are you?"

 

"No," Harry shook his head but Louis carefully slid a thigh between his and sat on him, giggling into his jaw as he tried to get balance.

 

Harry couldn't help the way his hands curved around his buttocks to support him, to haul him close and kiss the giggles from his lips. Louis found himself straddling Harry's waist, Harry's hands squeezing at his flesh and running up his back under his tee-shirt.

 

"Harry," He sighed, gulping out an 'oh!' of surprise when Harry's palm twisted over his dick; igniting the heat pooling there.

 

"Louis," Harry groaned, grasping at him through his pyjama bottoms; surging the heel of his hand over him keenly as he kissed his mouth.

 

Louis bucked a bit in his lap; arms tightening with a desired quiver around Harry's shoulders.

 

"Baby...oh yeah," Louis rocked against his touch, breathy voice high pitched with pleasure.

 

 _Baby_? Harry pushed his fingertips into Louis' bottoms, clutching the cleft of Louis' ass and pulling gently to spread him; insinuating something that he'd been dreaming about for too long now.

 

Harry might watch porn and know about anal sex but he'd never done it, he'd never had a real-life experience to measure himself by and with Louis it wasn't really about the knowledge, it was about how they felt when they did this, when they got close and wrapped up; the world forgotten outside.

 

"Harry...oh...oh!" Louis was pushing into his hand, thick and hot now and Harry knew what he needed to do; his urge to press his lips to Louis' burning salty skin was overwhelming.

 

He kissed him hard for a minute then laid him back until his body rested on the kitchen table and his knees pressed into Harry's sides. Harry pulled down the cotton at the front of the trousers that were shrouding him and he kissed underneath his arousal, gently licking against his balls.

 

"Who even are you?" Louis grunted, his hips arching instinctively.

 

Harry smiled, licking up his length and kissing his tip prettily.

 

"How do you know-" Louis bit off his words with a moan, Harry's mouth now surrounding him. He was curved to reach, his strong shoulders and wide back in his view along with that waterfall of hair.

 

"Hmmm..." Harry sucked at him, more precise than his first attempt, more confident.

 

"Harry...I can't be late...I have to g-"

 

The word was drawn out into a long sound of pleasure and all it took was Harry's tongue flicking down his length and his fingertips nudging into his crack to have him coming; hard and pulsing over Harry's cheek as Harry fisted around him to stroke him through it.

 

Louis rested his weight back against the table for a minute while his lungs recovered.

 

Harry made a whimpered noise and Louis could see him fidgeting, pressing his hand against his own arousal.

 

Louis blinked, sitting up and sliding back into Harry's lap, inches from his rock-hard body.

 

"Show me," he invited only, words soft and low.

 

Harry's head shot up, he stared at Louis for a few seconds.

 

Louis cupped his cheek, thumbing his cheek bone.

 

"Show me how you touch yourself," he asked again.

 

Harry pushed down his plaid pyjamas and fisted his hand around himself, stroking up and down slowly at first, working up his rhythm. Louis shaped his hand around Harry's to feel how he was holding himself; to learn how he liked doing this so he could do it perfectly in future and have Harry mindless with desire underneath him.

 

"Want you inside me," Louis panted softly, meeting Harry's gaze as it slowly slid to his, dark eyes and swollen lips.

 

"Wh-what?" Harry whispered, a noise in his throat giving away his desire.

 

"Look at you, Harry...you're so big...bet you feel so good inside..."

 

"Lou-" Harry choked, his hand quickening as he tried to push up into it only Louis was weighing him down. " _Gosh_ ," he muttered, making Louis splutter out a laugh.

 

"Just say fuck, Harry," Louis mused. "Wanna hear you talk dirty..."

 

"Louis," Harry begged, voice distorted with need.

 

Louis cupped Harry's face, pressing his thumbs gently into his chin to bring his gaze up again where he could meet it.

 

"If you want to fuck me, just say the words," Louis told him as Harry's hand shot quickly over his own skin, his eyes widening and lips falling open in the precipice to his orgasm.

 

Louis smirked, squeezing his tip and thumbing over it as Harry took care of his shaft and it was the best experience Louis had ever had with someone.

 

"Wanna-get," he gasped. "So deep," he stuttered, groaning as his head rolled back. "Louis!"

 

Louis let go as Harry spurted; his come splashing up Louis' torso; over his tan skin. He slicked some onto his fingertip and sucked.

 

Harry dribbled over his own hand with a weak sound.

 

Louis cupped his face tenderly afterwards, tidying his messed hair.

 

"Hey, you okay? Harold?"

 

Harry looked up and surged forwards to kiss him; the kiss tempering from passion into soft; meaningful tenderness.

 

Harry pulled away and gazed at him with soft green eyes.

 

"I want to make love with you," he stated simply, pressing his lips together which made his dimples pop.

 

Louis smiled quizzically. _Love_? Harry was so traditional in some ways it made Louis' chest ache with how much he-

 

 _Woah_.

 

How much he _what_?

 

He barely knew the guy and anyway, Harry's care of him was only temporary, he only ever saw this as a short-term gig.

 

But...well...

 

Louis lowered his gaze, hands fisted into Harry's top.

 

"Now?" He asked, avoiding focusing on his feelings too hard.

 

Harry's arms tightened around him, a soft kiss was pressed to his cheek.

 

"You have your interview," Harry reminded gently.

 

Louis sucked in a shocked breath and almost fell out of Harry's lap; if not for his strong arms holding him in place.

 

"Fuck! Shit, Harry...I have to go!"

 

Harry let him go, chuckling at his scrabbled escape to the bathroom.

 

"Are you quite sure you don't want me to drive you?" He called down the hallway.

 

Louis' swearing only made his smile deepen.

 

//

 

When Harry got back from lunch with Swann Louis was there, sitting in the doorway of Sunshine House just like that morning Harry had found him sleeping there.

 

He noticed his dishevelled state first- his jacket was ripped and his shoes were missing and as he strode closer he saw the blood.

 

"Lou?" He quickened his pace; his black buckled boots grinding on the asphalt. 

 

Louis' hands were shaking and covered in dirty dried blood but he was holding a cigarette, pressing it to bloody lips. His face was dirty too, his eye bore a scrape down the side of it and his hair hung messily in his face.

 

"Oh god are you ok?" Harry dropped down to his knees in front of him, gently clasping his elbows.

 

Louis blew his used smoke away from Harry's face.

 

"Guess reality had to catch me up sometime," he managed with a pained smirk.

 

Harry crawled to pitch beside him, sliding an arm around his shoulders.

 

"That's not your reality any more. Did you make it to the interview?" He asked.

 

Louis sucked at his filter, the crackle of cigarette paper burning filling the silence that was only marred by cars passing by.

 

"Yeah they jumped me on the way back. Said I'd forgotten who my friends were."

 

"They're not friends," Harry said lowly, trying to cuddle Louis closer but he was stubborn and refused to move.

 

 _Yet_.

 

Harry wanted to be the guy that Louis moved for, leaned into and let hold him together in moments like this.

 

"I'm ok," Louis assured, taking one last drag before throwing his butt away; his face twisting with the taste of bitterness in the last drag.

 

"Louis..."

 

Louis sighed. 

 

"Harry, don't," he begged. "Please."

 

"Don't what?" He wondered. "Don't care about you? Don't _worry_ about you? It's a bit late I'm afraid...you _are_ my boyfriend after all. My very first," Harry added. "And...well...I _do_ care about you. Very much. Very, very much," he added quietly, shy in his admission.

 

Louis licked his lips and twisted to look into Harry's face. His eyes watered a bit from squinting into the sun, still sore from being thumped.

 

"For fuck's sake," Louis whispered, reaching up to cup Harry's cheek. "Harold look at me...I'm a fucking street kid and you're-" he paused with an emotional swallow. "You're a fucking beautiful Prince. One who needs to find his Tinkerbell Princess."

 

Harry twisted right around so he could curl both arms gently, carefully around Louis' beaten body.

 

"Shut up," he said quietly. "Just be quiet, alright? I never wanted Tinkerbell. I only want you. Louis, I only want _you."_

 

Louis let himself cry a bit into Harry's shoulder; finally working his gaze back to his with snotty snivelling.

 

Harry smiled at him fondly.

 

"You won't go back, will you?" Harry begged. "You belong with me now."

 

Louis blinked.

 

"Can I still wear my cap?" He asked tonguing over his cut lip and wincing at the sting.

 

Harry chuckled, his eyes becoming watery.

 

"I wouldn't wish to change a thing about you."

 

"And we can get our own horses one day? We can ride them?"

 

Harry hummed.

 

"Whatever you want, Lou."

 

Louis pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's lip, sucking his cut one into his mouth afterwards to temper the pain.

 

"I could kind of get to like you, you know," his eyes twinkled as he spoke.

 

Harry swallowed; his eyes flicking over Louis' pretty face (albeit bruised).

 

"Oh really?"

 

Louis grinned with a nod.

 

"Maybe quite a lot really..."

 

Harry grinned back.

 

"I believe I can live with that..."

 

"I dunno Harold...I might start hugging you and kissing you and-"

 

Harry kissed his top lip, avoiding his injury.

 

"You can do anything you like as long as I get to keep you."

 

Louis' eyes lit up as his smile softened.

 

"You want to keep me?"

 

Harry nodded, kissing his cheek then his forehead tenderly.

 

"If you'll let me."

 

Louis' lips twisted.

 

"I guess I can try..."

 

Harry beamed and shifted away a bit.

 

"Shall we get you cleaned up?" He asked.

 

Louis slowly and gingerly moved his body until he was standing, limping heavily on his bad ankle. Harry's face changed from happy to solemn.

 

"Are you really okay?" He asked honestly. "I can take you to the hospital..."

 

Louis shook his head, reaching out to grasp Harry's shoulder.

 

"I don't need the hospital, Harold. I just need a bath and a blanket to curl up on the sofa with."

 

Harry put an arm around his waist and helped him inside.

 

"Okay but I'm making soup..."

 

Louis leaned into him with a smile.

 

//

 

EPILOGUE

 

"...I want you to think about your composition...the font you're using and the colours...I want you to create something artistic here, okay?"

 

Louis walked around the centre of the room; the artists habituating the walls with their generous canvases. His graffiti class had been fully booked since it started in October and graffiti was becoming a recognised art-form because of it.

 

He'd taken the job at the Community Centre doing odd-jobs but when Harry asked him to paint a mural for alternative art for the lobby, his artistic talent had become in demand. It still hit him in the chest when he walked around looking at the work being created by his gifted class.

 

He smirked at Swann as she used a step-stool to reach the top of her painting.

 

"You'll become a teacher here next," he accused her fondly with a wink behind his plastic goggles.

 

She grinned back at him. lifting her face-mask to answer back.

 

"I like being a student too much..."

 

Louis hovered by the open doors that allowed the required ventilation of the room when using spray-paints.

 

"Right guys, focus on finishing your piece in time- or at least the bulk of it. I'm just going to nip next door and fetch the camera and completion certificates to sign off today's work..."

 

Swann gave a loud wolf-whistle which drew much laughter from the class; for everybody there knew Louis was making excuses to go and see Harry who was giving his own quieter, more traditional class.

 

He rolled his eyes, striding out anyway and sliding his paper face-mask around his neck, pushing his goggles into his hair.

 

He paused outside Harry's door and looked into the classroom; seeing him perched on the edge of his desk while his class sat in a  circle around a fruit bowl, practising their painting technique.

 

He rapped quietly and let himself in. His smile was instantaneous; he couldn't help it.

 

"Hey," Harry smiled back, about to stand but Louis hastened towards him with a smirk.

 

"Wondered if I could borrow the camera?" He murmured.

 

Harry reached across the table and curved the camera into his big hand.

 

"And the certificates," Louis added quickly with a sheepish smile.

 

Harry arched a brow, pressing the camera into his hand.

 

"Thought you were printing some off," he accused knowingly.

 

Louis shrugged.

 

"Forgot."

 

"Hmm..." Harry had a to reach a little further for those and Louis crowded in front of him, between his thighs a bit, sliding one hand onto that expanse of flesh.

 

"Knew you'd be kind enough to lend me some," he teased with a lip bite.

 

Harry clutched the papers and moved back, tilting his head to kiss Louis softly, tenderly cupping his cheek as he brushed their lips together.

 

"I think you know I'd do anything for you and therefore you take great advantage of that fact," Harry mused.

 

He didn't look bothered by it.

 

Louis swiped his thumb over the inside of Harry's thigh; his skin-tight white jeans and pretty floral-embroidered white top making him look angelic with his hair up.

 

"I'll make it up to you later?" Louis offered; as he often did.

 

Harry's smile grew a shade filthy. He hummed low in his throat.

 

"Deal," he offered only, kissing Louis again, once, on the lips.

 

Louis captured his lips for a longer kiss; curling a hand up to tug at the hair-band containing his hair. He pulled it out; fingering through the mass.

 

A quiet giggling broke out at the back of the class; breaking them apart with wide-eyes and surprised catches of breath.

 

"Oh!" Harry cleared his throat, leaning back and combing long fingers through his messy hair.

 

"Oops," Louis smirked, scuffing his shoe a bit on the linoleum floor.

 

"I think you got what you came for," Harry offered with a tight smile, standing up and smoothing hands down the fronts of his thighs.

 

The students in his class hid their smiles behind their canvasses.

 

Louis flicked a look down Harry's long, lean body and bit his lip as his eyes shone with attraction.

 

"Don't think I'll ever get enough to be honest," he charmed, winking as he turned back towards the door, his little body wrapped in black denim jeans that showed off his curvy legs and a sleeveless black top that bared his sexy arms.

 

He still wore his favoured cap, off-centre with his fringe poking out. His smile was boyish and crinkle-eyed and Harry couldn't stop his own peeling across his lips for the rest of his class.

 

//

 

 

"I cannot believe you did that!" Harry pushed Louis backwards onto the bed and crawled over him, tickling his sides.

 

He'd already tugged off his top and his fingers were making for his jeans fastening.

 

"Did what?" Louis asked innocently among giggles. "I came to say hello!"

 

"You kissed me in front of my class!" Harry's knees anchored Louis to the bed while he struggled to get his jeans off.

 

Louis shrugged.

 

"I think they're used to it by now..."

 

"Not the point," Harry murmured against Louis' belly, kissing it after, several times.

 

Louis' breath caught and then he settled; his giggles fading into a pleased groan.

 

"How do you do that?" Louis sighed, lifting his feet so that Harry could fling his boxers away.

 

Harry smirked.

 

"You're not the only one with persuasion techniques," he pointed out.

 

Louis arched his hips up as Harry thumbed his nipples, letting out pleasured noises as Harry quickly sucked him;  a stealth attack assisted by holding Louis' wrists to the bed by his sides.

 

"Hey-what...stop that, I'm-"

 

Harry hummed around him; feeling _exactly_ what Louis was. He was turned on by the tickling, he was hot and hard already and close. He loved that he knew exactly how close Louis was.

 

They'd come a long way since that first night at the club when Harry barely knew what he liked in a guy, let alone how to get a guy off. Now he knew exactly how to get a guy off and not just any guy- _Louis_.

 

He pulled away, bouncing off the bed to get undressed.

 

"Get on your front," he told him and Louis rolled willingly onto his belly, reaching the side-table for his lube.

 

He was about to open it and finger himself but Harry straddled his legs; reaching for the bottle and tutting at him.

 

Louis fisted into the covers; waiting.

 

"You should know better than that," Harry teased, circling his rim with a wet fingertip. "You know I like to do this..."

 

"Just thought...quicker," Louis expressed, breathily.

 

"Shh..." Harry sat on his legs, twisting two fingers slowly inside. "Why the rush?"

 

Louis whimpered and wriggled but he couldn't break free. Harry scissored his fingers excruciatingly slowly; stretching him out as though this was the first time they'd fucked; as though Louis was a virgin who needed to be handled with gentility.

 

"Harry, fuck!" He cast, pushing back against his hand.

 

"Hey, now," Harry drawled in his ear, curling his hands around his hips to bring his ass upwards; stuffing two pillows underneath him and draping himself over Louis' back. Louis' knees were still inside Harry's and he knew it would feel tight when he-

 

 _Oh_. Oh, _god_.

 

"Oh, heavens," Harry exclaimed in his dainty, posh way and Louis might laugh if he had the semblance.

 

Harry was sinking into him and it was incredible. It was indescribable, the feeling of him inside when he was tight and trapped this way. Harry's palms pressed into the backs of his hands; twining their fingers and pushing his hands up the bed, above his head.

 

When his hips pulsed, Louis felt like he might come.

 

"Ha-" He moaned out, filled with him; filled deep and tight. So tight. So _good_.

 

"You were naughty," Harry husked in his ear.

 

 _Fuck_. Was this his punishment? Louis pushed his thighs apart but he couldn't shift Harry's legs caging them in. It was too intense; he felt like his mind might explode from it.

 

Harry kept thrusting; slow and deep until Louis couldn't take it any more. He pushed his hips into the bed to get abrasion but he didn't need to be touched; whatever Harry was doing to him was getting him to his high without needing much else and he felt captured, punished and deeply loved all at once.

 

"Want to let go now?" Harry whispered, uncurling his fingers, his knee shifting as if to push Louis' thigh wide out.

 

"Like this," Louis gasped, rutting back as much as he could in the lack of space. "Just-"

 

Harry shuffled up a bit and sank down at a different angle; nudging his hips and circling them; screwing in. He pushed Louis' hands into the mattress and repeated the action, pressing Louis' arousal into the bed where he felt his body rise to its peak.

 

"Harry!" Louis begged, breathless and weakened with pleasure; at Harry's mercy under his heavy body.

 

Harry fucked into him, sucked a kiss into his neck and felt Louis wriggle and whine; rutting into the bed as he finally released, heavy and hard. His own climax came right after; spilling over Louis' ass-cheeks as he fisted himself off and it took several minutes of trying to breathe before he could move again.

 

He gathered up Louis close, his front to Louis' back as he pressed soft kisses into his shoulder. He threw his leg over both of Louis'.

 

"Lou, what was-"

 

"Fuck," Louis expressed shortly.

 

Harry smiled against his shoulder and Louis turned onto his back.

 

"Louis? There's something I need to tell you...something I've been wanting to say for some while now..."

 

Louis blinked, his eyes almost crossed as he focused on Harry's face.

 

"Hm?"

 

"I'm in love with you," Harry stated, softly, kissing his mouth.

 

Louis' expression grew confused for a second until he reached for Harry's face, cupping his cheek.

 

"I love you too, Harold," he said, softly with a smile.

 

Harry gently combed his fringe back. Louis reached to kiss him; a sweet and longing kiss.

 

"I want to marry you, one day," Harry added, figuring he may as well cast all of his confessions in one lump since Louis had reacted to the first one so well.

 

"You think your Dad will actually let us get married?" Louis pursed his lips, his eyes lighting with hidden amusement.

 

Harry's smile slipped a notch, a tension set into his shoulders.

 

"My father doesn't get to decide who I love," Harry said only, his brows furrowing and his lips turning downwards.

 

"Hey," Louis grasped his wrist as Harry went to roll away. "Don't go yet..."

 

Louis curled over so they were reversed, his body now spooning Harry's.

 

"You're my beautiful posh-bit, yeah?"

 

Harry couldn't control the snort of amusement that curled out of his throat.

 

"Shut up, Louis," he accused warmly.

 

"Hm?" Louis leaned a bit further over him, his hand sliding between his arm and body; that hand sneaking onto his tummy. "Not my pretty posh boy?"

 

"No," Harry elbowed him gently with a grin. "M'not posh..."

 

"You kinda are, Harold," Louis teased.

 

"At least I'm not a delinquent," Harry retorted.

 

Louis gasped in mock-shock.

 

"I take everything I said back. I don't love you at all..."

 

But Louis' words were accompanied by him moving, climbing onto Harry's body and spreading him out. He burrowed between his naked thighs and grasped his biceps which Harry lazily tossed by his ears.

 

"Think you need the naughty treatment, don't you?" Louis smirked, dipping low to brush his fuzz against Harry's tummy.

 

"Louis!" He shrieked, letting out a happy laugh. "No, don't do that, come on!"

 

Louis only sucked the skin on his inner thighs in response, brushing his beard there afterwards to create a prickly burning sensation that Harry went weak with.

 

"Louis, you know that I-"

 

Louis ground his chin into the apex of Harry's thighs, right where the sensitive skin of his balls wrinkled.

 

"I-I can't-" Harry stammered among soft wanting noises.

 

"You can't walk in your skinnies when I give you beard burn," Louis grinned, knowing this to be true.

 

The last time he'd given Harry the red hot rash on his thighs he'd walked funny for two days afterwards, trying to wear his cords instead of jeans.

 

Louis loved that he affected Harry so much he had to change his wardrobe because of him.

 

"Lou-" Harry warned, half word, half-moan.

 

"Shouldn't have called me delinquent," Louis sucked a love-bite into the sensitive part of Harry's thigh, taking his re-energised erection onto his tongue.

 

He didn't stay still long, moving up Harry's body to straddle his hips; brushing the crack of his ass against the thick head of Harry's dick.

 

"Gonna let me ride you like one of your horses?" Louis asked.

 

Harry didn't get a chance to think of a response as Louis sank down on him and it was at that moment that he knew.

 

Harry knew he was screwed- in more ways than one.


End file.
